


The Price of Freewill

by azure_iolite



Series: Fire and Ice [1]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Abduction, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angel Wings, Angst, Archangels, BAMF Chloe Decker, BAMF Lucifer, BAMF Mazikeen (Lucifer TV), Backstory, Crack, Dark, Disassociation, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fanart, Father-Son Relationship, Feels, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV) Whump, Lucifer and Michael are Twins, M/M, POV Alternating, PTSD, Past Rape/Non-con, Possessive Lucifer, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Powerful Lucifer, Protective Chloe Decker, Protective Lucifer, Reveal, Sad Michael, Season/Series 04 Spoilers, Suicidal Thoughts, Torture, Whump, crimes against children
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-01-03 21:01:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 62
Words: 160,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21185927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azure_iolite/pseuds/azure_iolite
Summary: He ran.  Too weak to trust his wings to carry him, he stumbled and gasped for breath - breath he shouldn’t have needed at all - every part of him crying out in agony.  He didn’t stop when he slipped out of the pocket universe and found himself on the Earthly plane.  He didn’t stop when he crossed the fence and vanished into the shadows of the forest.  He didn’t stop when the bushes slapped his face, or when his bare feet caught on a root or a rock. He ran.In which Lucifer reconciles with his past, Deckerstar shippers get what they want, Ella finds love, Dan develops a bromance with God, and the author maliciously murders an army of onions in the name of art.  Inspired by the show and the comics.





	1. Found

**Author's Note:**

> **Non-con warning!** I elude to past events in chapters 2, 42, and chapter 43. 
> 
> **Crimes against children warning!** I elude to past events in chapters 28, 31, 38, and 43.
> 
> **PTSD warning! ** If reading about symptoms can trigger a reaction, DO NOT READ THIS!!!
> 
> That said, I hope you enjoy.
> 
> **This series was conceived before season 5. The Michael character in this series in an OC, and not canon compliant.**

“Which direction is the City of Angels?” The question had a confused, desperate edge to it. The source of said inquiry, a man who was somewhere in his mid to late 30s, fidgeted, unable to look Mr. Fisher in the eye. His gaze drifted just to the left of him, nervous, cautious, and guarded. 

“You mean, Los Angeles?” Mr. Fisher asked, his voice laced with concern. The stranger in front of him just nodded, almost imperceptibly, and as he stepped toward the frightened younger man in front of him, he instinctively shied away, keeping a measured distance between them. He had never seen anything quite like the stranger edging back from him. His eyes darted nervously as if he expected to be attacked at any moment, from any direction. He was a mess.

“You need help.” It was a statement, not a question, but the other man’s response to this observation was to move back even further, skittish and untrusting.

Even though it was the middle of the night, under a starry moonless sky, he could still make out several concerning details. His loosely curling dark hair was a matted mess; coated with what looked like blood, which was especially thick with the tacky substance on the left side of the forehead, where a wound was still bleeding, creating a dark trail snaking down to curve into his brow, close to the eye, then continuing further down his cheek. His lower lip was busted, and he had a nasty bruise forming on the right side of his face. 

Gaunt, tired eyes kept avoiding his, and his unsteady stance made it look like he might pass out at any moment. Likely had a concussion. He hunched in on himself, seeming almost small in spite of his tall stature. He appeared to be in a great deal of pain, with one hand wrapped around a dark spot blossoming on the side of his plain tattered white t-shirt, and his legs looked like they were shaking with the effort to stay upright in a pair of ratty grey sweatpants. 

And no shoes. 

He had to be beyond cold. This was not ideal attire for someone in Northern Washington, at night, in the middle of November. The man was probably quite handsome in normal circumstances, but right now, he just looked broken and in desperate need of care. 

It broke Mr. Fisher’s heart. The wounded stranger looked about the same age as his son, and he couldn’t help the paternal instinct that kept telling him to take him in his arms and tell him it would be okay… or the urge to beat the living daylights out of whoever was responsible for this. When he had decided to go down to the river to get his Zen on, this is not how he had imagined his night going. 

The strange broken man in front of him looked more likely to try to run than accept help though. He needed to try to find a way to keep him from taking off, but he didn’t know how. Silence stretched on, as the man looked at him, careful, pleading eyes finally locked onto his. And with that, he broke the spell by speaking again.

“Please…” he implored. “Which direction?”

Mr. Fisher hesitated, trying to find the right words to say; words that would convince him to trust him. Finally, after a sigh, he answered his question. “Well, you are a _very_ long way from there. You got family in LA?”

“Brother, last I knew.” He had an accent, Mr. Fisher noticed. It sounded English. A pleasant ring to it, even as rough as it was now.

“You got a number for him? I could give him a call.” He tried, holding as still as he could, as if he was trying not to frighten an injured wild animal.

“No.”

“Name?”

The sound of crashing bushes coming from their wooded surroundings put an abrupt stop to the conversation. The stranger’s eyes widened in fear and his head whipped around to stare in the direction of the sound. It was probably just a branch breaking off a tree, but the noise seemed to terrify him. He trembled, eyes darting all around.

Mr. Fisher decided that talking calmly might help. “It’s Okay, Son, it’s just a tree branch.” The other man looked at him suspiciously. He took this as a cue to keep talking. “Look, I’m just trying to help. LA, you know, it’s nowhere near here. Just telling you its south - and I mean, _waaaay_ south of here isn’t going to do you much good. Why don’t you come back with me? I can get you a hot shower and a good meal, then maybe you’ll let me get you the medical attention you need. I mean, really, you ought to be going to a hospital…” He trailed off as he realized the other was not listening to him.

Rather, his eyes were on the stars, a frustrated, confused look on his face. After a few moments of trying to recognize the constellations, he sighed and looked down. Once again, avoiding eye contact. “I can’t read the sky… which way is south?” He finally relented.

Mr. Fisher gestured to his left, down the winding road. “That-a-way.” He offered vaguely. The injured man’s reaction to that statement caught his attention. His expression twisted in agony, and he closed in on himself, shaking, as he took rapid shallow gasping breaths. For a moment, it looked like he was about to have a panic attack.

“But I just came from there.” His voice was broken, choking on fear and frustration.

“What’s down there, son?” Mr. Fisher asked, voice thick with equal parts compassion and barely contained rage. 

At first, there was no answer, and when it came, it was a whisper, almost too soft to hear. “_They_ are…”

They are. Whoever _‘they’_ were, he had no doubt in his mind that _‘they’_ were the ones responsible for this. _‘They’_ were monsters, and _‘they’_ were going to pay. 

“I see,” He said, turning to get his phone from his truck. He was going to call the cops, and they were going to find those bastards. “Stay put, I’m just going to make a call.” But as he reached his vehicle and opened the door, a sudden whooshing sound, followed by a sharp gust of wind caught him off guard. Whirling around, his jaw dropped open. The other man was gone. Without a trace.

Startled, he stepped forward, looking around. But he was nowhere to be seen. He tried to call out to him.

“Son? Where are you? Son?” But there was no answer. Only the night greeted him in reply. Walking forward, he called out for him again, and again, he got nothing. He was so focused on trying to peer into the night that he nearly tripped on the foliage that was sprouting up in the middle of the gravel parking space. It was in the same spot the injured younger man had been standing. How strange. Shaking his head in confusion, he lifted his phone and dialed the Lynden Police Department to report what he had seen.

***

Chloe was antsy.

She needed to _move._ To do _something._ But for now, she had to wait.

Sitting in her last-minute-booked seat on the plane as it made its way to Washington gave her time to think at least. And to wake up. She still remembered the call, the call she had almost ignored, except that it had been Dan. Dan, who had been at work. He had been doing a lot of extra hours lately, presumably to help cope with… things. It had to do with Charlotte, she knew, and ironically, now that Lucifer had been gone for a while, he had finally stopped blaming him. Now he seemed to be blaming himself. Sighing, she took the call, expecting him to break down about some revelation or other.

“Hey. Chlo?” 

“Dan… its 1:30, I just… why are you calling at this hour?”

He hesitated on the other line. Chloe rubbed and blinked her eyes, willing them to focus. 

“So… Lucifer, he went home?” He sounded unsure.

_Really?_ Chloe sighed, she had a hard enough time sleeping without Dan, of all people, bringing up Lucifer. She missed him, and being reminded of it only made her lose more sleep. 

“Yeah, something about a family emergency, and needing to fix things.” She muttered tiredly. Technically, it wasn’t a lie. Demons coming to Earth was definitely an emergency in need of fixing, and even though Hell wasn’t really home, it was close enough.

“Did he say where home is, or how long he expected to be away? I mean, it’s been, like a year and a half, and we haven’t even heard from him.” It sounded like he was piecing something together.

“Where are you going with this?” Chloe sighed.

“Are we sure he’s okay?” Chloe sat up, suddenly interested. Why was he bringing this up now? Not once had he shown concern for Lucifer’s wellbeing. Ella had. She asked every couple weeks, like clockwork, if Chloe or anyone had heard from him yet. Ella prayed for him every night. Knowing Ella was praying for the wellbeing of the Devil always amused Chloe, and she really wished she could tell her friend the truth, but, yeah, that wasn’t happening.

After a pause, she had to admit, truthfully, she didn’t know. “You know, he’s… I mean… no, I don’t know for sure, but I have to believe that he is.” It was painful to admit this out loud. It hurt to say it to Dan, especially. “Why?”

“I just got a call from Pam, in Missing Persons. She seemed to be pretty sure that someone found Lucifer in Washington, all busted up and lost in the woods.” He blurted out.

The rest of the call had gone quite differently, as she had switched from sleepy love-sick Chloe Decker into Detective Decker working a case. She wanted details, and details, he had given. It had been a drawn out game of he-said she-said which had taken place for this information to reach her ex. 

A man near Lynden Washington ran into the person in question. He had called the Police Department there, they connected him with Missing Persons, and he suggested talking with someone in LA. That someone knew Lucifer… everyone at the LAPD knew him. Everyone loved him. He had somehow gone from amusing distraction to an invaluable member of the team. Chloe suspected their nearly flawless close rate and his Devilish charms had something to do with that. The description sounded too much like Lucifer for Pam to think it was a coincidence, and as the man in question had been asking about LA, she was convinced that, yes, it was him. So she decided to talk to Dan. Why Dan? She knew he was awake, and at work finishing up after a failed stakeout, and she wanted a second opinion. After Dan, too was convinced that this might be Chloe’s vanished partner, he took it upon himself to call her.

Someone who had an English accent, was tall and lean, probably normally handsome, dark slightly curly hair… it could be him. He said he needed to get to LA, and find a brother. Amenadiel, perhaps. The part that concerned her was the description of his condition. Wearing tattered clothes, a t-shirt and sweats, no less, bloody, head injury, busted lip, no shoes? Weak and tired. Frightened and panicked. This part worried her the most. 

No, it couldn’t be Lucifer. Lucifer wasn’t vulnerable if Chloe wasn’t near. He was the _Devil._ He was the Lord of Hell, and the Fallen archangel who had… presumably led a rebellion against God. He could walk through explosions and brush them off with ease. He has tossed a man effortlessly through bullet proof glass. He could hold a car in place while it tried to drive away. He could be shot and the bullets would bounce off of him like he was Superman. So, obviously, it wasn’t him. It was just a poor man in need of help who resembled Lucifer. It had to be, because if it wasn’t…

Chloe had to stay focused.

It wasn’t Lucifer.

But if it was, then that meant there was something out there powerful enough to hurt her Lucifer, who had obviously done just that, and was not likely to stop.

The man had been _afraid_ of something. 

Lucifer didn’t scare easily. Well, not when it actually mattered anyway. He was skittish with her. He worried about keeping her safe, about sparing her from seeing things he thought would hurt her. He was afraid of being _rejected._ He ran from _feelings._ Never from danger. Not even when he was with Chloe, and essentially mortal. Not even when he _should_ be afraid. So if it was Lucifer, and he was afraid, what did that mean? 

And how was she going to protect him?

One thing at a time, Detective Decker, she scolded herself. No point jumping to conclusions yet. Her first step would be to get to Lynden, where she had made an appointment to meet with the witness at the department, a man named Robert Fisher. When she got there, she would show him a picture of Lucifer and ask if this was the man he had seen. Then he would tell her that, no, it was someone else.

Because it had to be. 

Then she could offer to help with the investigation, because even if it wasn’t Lucifer, the poor man _did_ need help, and he _was_ trying to get to LA, and maybe she could help him. Maybe helping him would help her get her mind off of Lucifer.

And if this Robert Fisher confirmed that it _was_ Lucifer…

Chloe would tear the State of Washington apart to find him and rein hell down upon the monsters responsible for hurting him. 

Then she would hold onto him with all her might and make sure he never left her again.

Chloe was crying. 

“I’ll find you, Lucifer. I promise. I’m on my way, just hang in there.” She sniffed. The lady sitting next to her gave her the funniest look, and moved a seat over, crossing herself.


	2. Adrenaline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Detective Decker has work to do.

He ran. Too weak to trust his wings to carry him far - knowing that the moment he unfurled them, they would be a divinity beacon for those who hunted him. He ran. He stumbled and gasped for breath, every part of him aching, crying out in agony. He needed rest. But that was not possible. This was likely his only chance to escape, and he would not squander it. He didn’t know how long it would take them to realize he had gotten away, so he didn’t stop, because they might already know. They might already be hunting him. Every second was precious.  
  
He didn’t stop when he escaped the pocket universe and found himself on Earth. He didn’t stop after he slipped silently out of the strange, quiet building. He didn’t stop after he crossed the fence and vanished into the forest. He didn’t stop when the bushes slapped his face, which was already in so much pain, or when his bare feet found a root, or a rock. None of this should have hurt in the first place, but it did. He would worry about that mystery later. For now, he had to put distance between himself and the place he had come from. Get as far away as possible. He waited far too long for this one chance to waste it.  
  
How long had it been? He didn’t know. Days had blurred together into one long drawn out torment. Days became weeks became months became... years? He was sure it had been years. But finally, his captors dropped their guard, growing over-confident in their assumption that he was too broken - mistakenly equating vulnerability with helplessness. Every opponent had a weakness. Every opponent slips up eventually. The trick is to wait until they do, to hold back until the right moment, then strike with finality. So that is what he had done. His captors did not see eye to eye, so he used that. And he waited until they thought he couldn’t fight back, too weak to stand, and too damaged to think straight. It wasn’t a lie, not really. But he had held onto a secret inner resolve, hiding it away along with his wings - which they hadn’t known had grown back - and the last reserves of his strength. And he waited for the right moment.  
  
That moment came when their boss - his _brother_ \- was away, and the ones in charge of watching him decided to give in to temptation, even going so far as to take the gag out while having their... fun. They wanted to gloat over him, to show him how powerless he had become. They should have known better, known it was risky to allow him to speak, but instead, they thought this would prove that he was no longer a threat. It was so easy to lead them astray. Enduring their cruel treatment as they had their ‘fun’ was painful, but afterward, when they looked into his eyes, it only took one question - _the _question, and their worlds changed. They left him lying prone on the floor, alone and unchained, no collar, no gag… nothing - and he knew it had been worth the abuse. Finally. He had a path to freedom, and he took it. If he was lucky, it would be hours before they realized their prize had escaped – vanished right under their reckless noses.  
  
After an uncertain length of time running, he found a road and started down it. It was a lonely winding path in the middle of nowhere, and since it was easier to run on pavement, he continued down it, glancing furtively behind him every so often. The night sky above was a welcomed sight. He had missed the stars. He had missed the taste of free air, and even as the cold bit into him, as his heart pounded in his chest, and his lungs hurt from taking in too many struggled breaths, he felt better than he had in a long time. He could almost smile… almost, if not for the knowledge that it was not over yet. He was not safe, not yet truly free. Not while the threat of recapture still loomed over him.  
  
After a while, he spotted a gravel parking lot next to the river which ran parallel to the country road he had been traveling down, with a single vehicle parked in the middle. An older looking human leaned against it, watching the water. He contemplated ignoring him, and sneaking passed, but the man had a gentle, fatherly light about him, so perhaps it was safe. After all, he had no idea where he was.  
  
After a painful conversation, the man had finally told him to go south. Unfortunately, south meant going back the way he had come.   
  
This was not good.   
  
At first, he considered taking to the bramble again and going east for a time, then heading south, but that wouldn’t work. He was running out of energy. Reluctantly, he decided that it might be safe to use his wings - if only briefly. Assuming he had the strength to fly, he could cover a great deal of distance, and if he did it quickly, tucking his wings away immediately after, he might get away with it. Having made up his mind, he unfurled his wings and took off.  
  
He had been right to be concerned. He was weak. After only a couple seconds, he touched down again. Not knowing where he was, or if he had gone too far, he continued to run, grateful they had not caught up to him mid-flight. Grateful he had not crashed.   
  
A part of him longed to pray for help, but he knew he couldn’t. He couldn’t trust them – didn’t know _who_ he could trust anymore. And certain that someone was listening in, he had only one option. He had to get to the brother he hoped he _could_ still trust. The one he could find on Earth. This was a long shot. But it was the only one he had, and he was too weak to fight this enemy on his own. He needed help, and help was in the City of Angels, so that was his only objective.  
  
Get there, get help.  
  
He was no longer running when the sky started to brighten. He was stumbling through neatly kept yards with short grass and all-too-similar looking human dwellings. Finding his way away from the street, he collapsed against a dainty maple tree with a pile of fallen yellow leaves at its base. He didn’t have time to rest. He had to keep going, but his legs weren’t working. Maybe it was okay to take a moment. Just to catch his breath and let his legs recover a little energy. Just a moment. He leaned his head against the bark of the tree, and his eyes, heavy with exhaustion, closed without his bidding them to, and before he knew it, everything faded away.

***  
  
“Robert Fisher?” Chloe held out her hand to the older man who had been waiting for her in the empty conference room. He smiled pleasantly at her. The man wore a red and orange paid jacket, muddy blue jeans, and a green cap. His weathered face was half covered by an impressive greying beard, and his brown eyes crinkled at the edges charmingly. He seemed like the kind of person who would hold the door for you, and liked to drink beer while talking about life.   
  
“That would be me. Are you the one coming from LA?” He asked shaking her hand.  
  
“My name is Detective Chloe Decker. Pam from Missing Persons said that you had a run-in with someone last night?”  
  
The man’s eyes grew misty as he remembered it. “Yes, Ma’am. Son had been put through Hell from the looks of it. My guess is kidnapping… though I guess whoever was responsible had a hard time keeping him.”  
  
Chloe nodded. “That would stand to reason. Can you tell me a little bit more about the encounter?” She encouraged. Robert Fisher proceeded to tell his tale, and the more he talked, the more Chloe’s heart ached. _Please, don’t let this be Lucifer,_ her mind was begging. _Please, let him be okay. _  
  
“…then, and I know it sounds crazy, and believe me, I’m questioning it too…” He faltered, unsure whether to continue. Chloe tensed a bit. Crazy? Like supernatural?  
  
“What sounds crazy? I promise, I won’t judge.”  
  
Mr. Fisher sighed and shook his head. “Some of the others laughed when I told them this part.” He admitted, clearly grumpy about it.  
  
“I won’t laugh.” Chloe promised, feeling a sinking sensation in her chest.  
  
“Well…” He hesitated, running his fingers through his beard – some sort of self-soothing motion, no doubt. “Okay.” He straightened up a bit and looked her in the eyes. “When I went to get my phone, I heard a weird whooshing noise and felt a gust of wind, and then… he was gone!” He waved his hands about dramatically as he said the last bit.  
  
Chloe felt her heart stop. Whooshing noise? Like wings unfurling. And wind… she remembered the wind produced by a flap of Lucifer’s wings… She remembered him standing on the balcony, beautiful white, luminous wings spread out behind him, looking every bit the angel she knew he was, a sorrowful look in his eyes. He had said good bye, because he was going back to Hell. _What if they didn’t want him to rule anymore? What if he had been attacked? What if…_  
  
No.  
  
Something must have shown on her face, because Mr. Fisher tilted his head and reached out to take her hand.  
  
“You alright, Detective?” He looked genuinely concerned.  
  
“No, no, I’m fine. Sorry, I’m fine.” Chloe blurted.  
  
Mr. Fisher thought this over, then brightened up, hopeful. “Does that sound like something you’re familiar with, because if so, I would _really_ like an explanation.” He admitted, taking his hand back and scratching his beard.  
  
Chloe considered his question, trying to find a way to answer him without saying too much. Finally she settled on a non-answer. “I’m sorry, I have no way of explaining what happened, but for what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re crazy.” She smiled reassuringly at him and he seemed to accept that.  
  
“Well, you’re more open-minded then the others, then.” He decided.  
  
“Tell me, if I showed you a picture, would you be able to ID him?” She asked, pulling out her phone and scrolling to find a good picture of Lucifer. 

“Yeah, I think I can do that.” 

It didn’t take long to find a good one. She kept several on her phone to look at whenever her missing him got to be too much. She found one with him sitting at the piano, drink in hand, and smiling affectionately at the camera - at her.  
  
“Is this the man you saw last night?” He took the phone and looked it over. Chloe was holding her breath. She felt so stupid. Of course it wasn’t, it couldn’t…  
  
“That’d be him, alright.” The man sighed sadly. “He looks so happy in this picture, who is he?” He asked sympathetically looking at her again and handing the phone back.  
  
Chloe stopped breathing. Her heart skipped a beat, before catching up by pounding double time. No. Don’t freak out. Lucifer needs help. Lucifer needs Detective Decker, not a panicked love sick girl. She took several deep breaths before she could take her phone back.  
  
“He’s my partner.” She nearly whispered as she looked through blurry eyes at the image.  
  
Mr. Fisher took her hand again, reassuringly, exuding nothing but empathy. “I’m so sorry to hear that, but for what it’s worth, that partner of yours is a real fighter. I can tell. I think he’s going to be alright.”  
  
Chloe felt a single tear slide down her cheek. “Yeah, he really is. And he had better be.” She said resolutely as she sniffed and wiped her eyes. “I’m going to find him. And when I find out who did this...” She grew silent, unwilling to self-incriminate.  
  
After a few customary parting words, the man left, and Chloe was alone with her thoughts. She needed to figure out what to do. First, she would check out the scene where he had been found, and look for clues. Then she would touch bases back here, and see if any more leads turned up. If he used his wings, there was no telling where he was now. Maybe, if she was lucky, he had already flown back to LA, and he would be waiting for her at Lux, with a story to tell, and an embarrassed smile. Yeah, right, like it could be that easy.   
  
Nothing with Lucifer was ever that easy.  
  
One thing was sure though. She needed help. She needed someone who could track down an angel. Her mind made up, she pulled out her phone and ran her finger through her contacts. After she found the number she needed, she hit ‘call’ and waited. It only took a few rings before the line picked up and Amenadiel’s sleepy voice greeted her.

“Hey, um… Amenadiel? It’s Chloe. I think Lucifer is in trouble.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Difficult chapter to write. Hope you liked it. Expect an update next weekend. 🙂


	3. Purchase

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing more characters to the mix.

“So, Elohim, was it?” The broker laughed. “I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised, considering what I’m selling.” He looked over the gentleman in front of him skeptically. The research he had made on this potential buyer said that his real name was Bandile Adisa, but that about a year and a half ago, he had started calling himself Elohim. 

Elohim Adisa. 

He was a wealthy business man from South Africa – a giant in the fashion industry no less, who had been traveling the world around the same time he changed his name – ignoring his business. And if the rumors were true, performing miracles, of all things. The man had creamy coffee skin, shoulder length braids with turquoise beads at the ends, an artful goatee, and a dignified, graceful aged look to him. It was not what he had expected from someone who tried to pass himself off as a deity.

“Do _you_ know what you’re selling?” The man replied casually in a smooth, lightly accented, well-educated voice like honey. This piqued the broker’s interest. He watched the odd man as he took a sip of the tea that had been offered earlier. Even if he wasn’t likely to sell to him on account of him not being quite rich enough, the item in question had him wondering. If he could gain information on it, that would only help to attract more suitably wealthy potential buyers. 

“Some sort of angelic relic, I believe. Got these interesting runes on it, as well as the Alpha and Omega symbols.” He grinned at the man. “Whatever it is, it isn’t of this world, as I’m sure you know.”

Elohim raised an eyebrow at him, seemingly amused. “Have you touched it? Do _you_ know? I think not.” The man replied elusively. He was surprisingly perceptive.

The broker laughed. “Of course not. I hear that people who touch it tend to become obsessed, and if I want to make a fortune off it, it’s best I don’t get hooked. They say to touch it is to touch heaven.” He rolled his eyes. He wasn’t sure he bought the hype… but still, he kept it in a box. You never know, right? Especially after how he had seen his prospective buyers react to it. All he had to do was let them put a hand on it, and they were begging him to sell it to them.

Nodding understandingly, the man leaned in. “I see. I suppose that is logical. And yes, humans are not really designed to handle that much divinity. It can cause madness, obsession, rampant devotion and tamper with freewill itself.” The broker smiled, somewhat amused at how the man had excluded himself from the term ‘human.’ Clearly, he was even crazier than the rest of his already questionable clientele.

“You seem to know a lot about it, tell me, how did you come by this knowledge?” He took a drag from his cigar and blew it directly at the other man. It was meant to intimidate and put him off – a standard power play. 

Adisa waved the smoke away disinterestedly. “Well, you see, it belongs to me.” He sighed, even as the broker raised his eyebrows challengingly, then after a moment of contemplation, he amended his statement. “Or it is meant to. But something happened, and it went missing. I am simply looking to regain what was lost, find out what happened to my son, and go home.”

This was not the response he had expected. How insane was this man? According to his records, he had no children. “Pardon my asking, but what does your ‘son’ have to do with any of this?” He interrogated, making finger quotes around the word ‘son.’

Elohim shook his head and sighed. “He made it for me, and he was holding onto it while I was on vacation. But he went missing, and now, I need the medallion so I can set things right.”

Now that was just too much. His son made it? Yeah right! He started laughing loudly, slapping his knee. “Oh, man, you’re son, huh? What, is he an _angel?_ Mad scientist?” He snorted. “Because even _without_ touching it, I know it’s something special. Never seen anything glow like that. But your son? Sorry to hear he’s missing.” He laughed harder. “If you find him, send him my way, would you, so I can have him make more!”

Elohim’s face grew grim, and something in the air seemed to shift. Suddenly, the situation didn’t feel quite so amusing. The broker’s two body guards, who up until this moment, had been standing passively at either side, tensed and instinctively reached for their guns, eyes darting around, trying to pinpoint the threat they both sensed.

_“You will not disrespect my family.”_ Elohim commanded. No. He COMMANDED. And strangely, the broker felt an overpowering need to do as he was told. It was unnerving. The guards withdrew their hands from their guns apprehensively as the tension died down. “Now,” the intriguing man in front of him continued. “Let me see it, so I can confirm its authenticity, if you please.”

The broker swallowed hard. “I… um… do I have a choice?” He suddenly wished to conclude this business meeting as quickly as possible.

The other man looked confused for a minute, then, as understanding kicked in, he put his face in his hand and he sighed. “I apologize. That was not intentional. Yes, you have the right to refuse.”

Looking over his shoulder, the broker considered for a minute, then deciding it best not to anger the peculiar gentleman further, he motioned to his guards. “Bring it up.” He ordered, and the one on the left held up an ornate rosewood box, and set it on the table between them. Elohim reached forward and lifted the lid to see what lay within. 

It was an oval medallion containing a dark blue polished stone with an upside down triangle carved into its center, the lines at the bottom point continuing down. One ending at a horizontal dash and the other bending up to end at a small circle. The stone was set in what looked like white gold, ornate, supposedly Enochian writing carved into the frame, along with the Alpha and Omega symbols. It was undeniably beautiful, feeling somehow both ancient and brand new.

Elohim picked it up, and as his hand touched it, the stone began to glow an intensely vibrant blue, responding to his presence. The broker scooted back in alarm as the stone lit up. Elohim didn’t seem to notice. He had a serene look on his face, eyes closed and a longing smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“What the?” The broker shook his head. “That thing usually only lights up when hit by direct sunlight.” He gulped. If it lit up just because this man touched it… his story was starting to feel a bit more believable. Who… _what_ was he? Some part of him suspected he knew the answer, even as his brain told him that it was impossible.

“Yes, well, I imagine that would do the trick too. He has always been fond of stars.” He placed it back in the box and it stopped glowing. Then he took another appreciative sip of tea, smiling politely at the broker.

“I… uh… I see.” He cleared his throat. Okay, this was a business meeting. This man was just another potential buyer, right? Just get him to name his price and conclude things. “How much you willing to pay to reclaim your family’s lost piece of jewelry?” He tried to sound casual, but he was far beyond feeling it now.

“I have one hundred grand in cash ready for you. That ought to more than cover the expenses of acquiring it.” He stated calmly.

No, that was a _ridiculous_ offer for a life-changing divine artifact. “You’re yanking my chain, right?” The broker hoped. He didn’t want to refuse the man - he was afraid to, honestly - but that sum was pathetic.

“No. That is the price I am ready to pay.”

“I’ve already got two other buyers willing to pay several hundred _million_ for it.” He countered, reminding himself not to laugh. “And if I auction it, I will probably get even _more._”

Elohim shook his head. “You’ve been letting them touch it, haven’t you?” He tisked.

“Well, they wanted to see if it was real too.” He defended. Yes, he knew that they would become obsessed, yes, he knew they would be willing to pay anything for it after that, and yes, he knew that was cheating, but he was in the business to get rich, not to play fair. Elohim looked at him with a condemning expression. 

“Oh, Morgan, my son, this was folly. You know they lost the _will_ to resist it the moment they touched it.” He scolded. The broker pulled back. How had he known his name was Morgan? A chill ran down his spine. The strange man was not done with him yet, however. “Seeing as you have robbed others of the freedom to refuse you, I have no choice now.” He shook his head. “There are more important things at play than the might of your greed.”

The broker fidgeted nervously, and his guards moved in, drawing their guns, though they seemed hesitant to point them – afraid to. “You have no choice but to do what, exactly.” He gulped.

The air seemed to shift again, and he suddenly felt insignificantly small. _“You will sell the medallion to me at the agreed upon price of one hundred thousand, then you will spend the rest of the day contemplating your life choices.”_ He COMMANDED.

“O… Okay… one hundred thousand is fair, I suppose.” He squeaked out, shaking like a leaf.

“It most assuredly is. And more than you deserve, from where I’m sitting.” Came the curt reply, as the man reached into his satchel and retrieved a few thick rolls of cash. Smiling politely, he handed them over. 

Trembling slightly, the broker accepted them, took the clips off and began counting. Elohim watched him calmly. The money was all there. This did not surprise him. He would have been confused if any had been missing, seeing as the stranger seemed to have the power to demand whatever he wanted. He could just outright make him agree to give it away for free! What would the point of paying anything at all be if he was just going to cheat him? “Looks like it’s all here.” He gulped.

Elohim smiled benevolently at him as he picked up the rosewood box containing the item. “Thank you, my son. I hope you find a way to clear your ledger before the end of your life. I really do.” Then he turned and walked out, leaving the broker to sit and wonder.

What just happened? Had he really just agreed to sell the most miraculous thing he had ever come across – a genuine religious artifact – for mere pennies? Why did he do that? Because it would have been wrong to do otherwise, he told himself. But what did that matter to him? He had been doing much worse for a long time… The weight of that realization hit him square in the face, and he sank into his chair, covering his face. What kind of terrible person had he allowed himself to become? His ten-year-old self would be deeply ashamed of the man he was now.

_You will spend the rest of the day contemplating your life choices._ Shit! He was actually doing it! Who was that man? How? Why? Looking at his two guards, he sighed. If he was really going to do this, he would rather be alone.

“Why don’t you two take the rest of the day off?” He suggested, and as they left, he felt a tear slide down his cheek. He had done so many terrible things…

***

Raziel listened as the strange human who talked like Father prayed again. He had been praying for about a year and a half now. At first, it was a daily thing, then it diminished to weekly, then monthly. Now, he only seemed to pray when he had something important to say. And always to the same sibling. The one who was beyond his reach, beyond everyone’s reach… until now. Now, that he had found his way onto the Mortal Plain, if this human had chosen to pray to him again, he might actually get through. But this time, the prayer wasn’t directed at him. It was directed to her.

Raziel knew this man. As the keeper of divine secrets, she could hear everyone’s prayers, always. She could conceal and reveal them, and she knew what everyone’s deepest darkest secrets were – she knew what people prayed to the Devil for, and she knew what they prayed to God for. This strange human never prayed to God, however, and he seemed to know she was listening in, which is why it was odd that he addressed her directly this time.

_“Raziel, daughter. I know you can hear my prayers, so I know that you are aware of the situation with your brother. The simple fact that you have not done anything about it, and seeing as the others have not come to my aid either tells me that you have kept this knowledge from them – that you are not to be trusted. I dearly hope I am wrong in this, but understand me well when I say that when I come home, you will have to answer for your actions. Consider this my final prayer. You will not be privy to my thoughts and actions any further. I have decided to fix this mess myself.”_

The Archangel of Secrets felt suddenly cold at that last line. Was it possible? She honestly had no idea where Father had been all this time, but the man did not feel like Father. He felt like… a mostly mortal human… whatever that meant. But if it was somehow Father, perhaps she ought to warn the others. 

Putting her hands together in prayer, she directed her warning outward. _“Zerachiel, brother. I may have found Father… but I don’t quite understand how. Have your human servants look in on a man named Bandile Adisa. He said he is planning on fixing things, which means he may be a threat.”_ She sighed as she dropped her hands. 

Zerachiel had told her that he was going to be in the Mortal Plane until he recaptured their uncooperative escaped brother, so she knew he heard her. Had he been in the pocket realm, she would have had to go there in person to warn him. Raziel wondered, not for the first time, what she had gotten herself into.

“Uriel,” She sighed. “I miss you. This was your plan, but now it’s falling apart. I don’t know what to do, and it’s all Lucifer’s fault.” She was talking to herself again. She needed to stop doing that. Glaring at nothing in particular, her mind wandered back to the Adversary. 

Their selfish, conceited, egomaniac brother deserved to suffer for what he had done. Of that, she was certain. And still Daddy’s favorite, Father was never going to punish His precious Lightbringer, so if she was to see justice done, she would have to do it herself. She may not be the pattern master, but somehow, she vowed to find a way to fix everything. She would see Uriel’s vision fulfilled. By any means necessary. She couldn’t back out now. Not after everything they had already done. She would do this, even if Father Himself aimed to stop her. She would do it.

For Uriel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, he is exactly who you all think he is. The plot thickens.


	4. Paradise Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two parts: memories and the present time - what a harsh juxtaposition.

_“I can’t believe we made this.” Mîchael said to Samael, as they took in the splendor of the scene before them. The two archangels were standing in a magnificent valley, by a crystal clear pool of water, branching out into dainty little streams. A cascading waterfall crashed down into it, spraying rainbows about as they refracted the light of the star shining from beyond a vibrant blue sky. Puffy clouds drifted lazily by, and trees and shrubbery spotted the landscape artfully. It was paradise. “You think Father will be displeased?”_

_ Samael grinned playfully at him, plopping down happily into the grass at the edge of the water and leaned back with a self-satisfied sigh. “Most certainly. I can already hear him,” He made a mock stormy expression and deepened his voice in a ridiculous impersonation of God. “Samael and Mîchael, I am disappointed in you. I have set forth great works for you and you waste your blessed gifts on frivolities.” He started to laugh, and Mîchael splashed water at him with a kick of his foot, sending cool droplets into the air. _

_ “Sammy,” He half scolded, even as he resisted the slight chuckle that bubbled up._

_ “What? You know I’m right.” He said, blocking the drops with his resplendent wings. “But what does it matter? He’ll forgive us.” Sitting up, he took in the troubled look on his brother’s face. He hated it when Mîchael made that face. Sighing, he stood up and placed a reassuring hand on his brother’s shoulder and impulsively brushed a stray curl from his face, earning him an annoyed huff as his brother shooed his hand away. “He always forgives us.” He said it simply, with all the innocent trust of someone who knew nothing of hardship._

_ “I know… but making an entire new realm… another universe, even if it’s just a little one?” Mîchael shook his head. “Creation is supposed to be Father’s domain.” He turned to look at their work again, and a smile started to creep up again. “Still… I’m happy we did this.” He gestured at the scenery. Samael turned to take it in as well, feeling ridiculously proud of their accomplishment. “It makes me wonder, though…” Mîchael’s voice trailed off as he became lost in thought._

_ “Oh, please.” Samael laughed. “Really, Mī. Creation is our domain too. Who made the stars? Who terraformed the planets? Who grew the plants?” He shook his head. “Father tells us what to make and we do it for him. He rarely lifts a finger.”_

_ “You’re not wrong.” Mîchael conceded. Suddenly an idea crossed his mind. “Do you think we could create creatures too?” He sounded equal parts excited and worried._

_ “If anyone can, I would say it would be you.” Samael beamed at his twin._

_ Mîchael breathed in deeply, relishing in the scene, and for a long time, he just stood there, which made Samael uncomfortable. He hated staying still for too long. After what felt like forever to the impatient Lightbringer, he just had to ask. _

_ “What are you thinking right now?”_

_ “Nothing. I’m just committing this moment to memory. So I can have it to hold onto later.” He sounded pensive._

_ “Are you worrying over Father’s announcement?” Samael asked, shaking his head. “Because I still don’t know what any of it means.”_

_ Mîchael smiled back at him, nodding. “He does enjoy his riddles, doesn’t He?”_

_ “Why do we all need roles all of a sudden? How am I to rule a place I’ve never even heard of? I much prefer just being the Lightbringer. That, I understand.” He groused, shaking his head. Mîchael shrugged. Samael continued. “And you, the Prince of Heaven? The Sword? Why did it feel like Dad plans to put you in charge of the rest of us? As if he already doesn’t do anything.” He laughed, and stretched his wings, feathers ruffling in agitation, betraying his misgivings even as he tried to act unbothered. The whole notion was beyond confusing, and after a fleeting moment of worry, he just decided not to think too much about it._

_ “I don’t think we are meant to understand yet.” Mîchael offered, thoughtfully. “But I do know one thing.” Now it was his turn to grin._

_ “Oh?” Samael was stepping into the pool now, considering splashing his brother, the ‘Prince of Heaven’ – whatever that meant, in the face. “And what’s that?”_

_ “Amenadiel is jealous. Being the first born, he thinks he should command. Did you see the look on his face when he was named the Fist, after I was told that I would lead?” He started to laugh. Samael had to laugh too. Their oldest brother thought he was so important. It was delightful to see him passed up. The mischievous Archangel forgot all about splashing his brother, and they both reveled in their shared amusement._

_ “Oh, I do believe that is my favorite thing about our dear brother. When he is trying to hide how angry he is. He makes the most ridiculous faces.” Samael scrunched up his face in a mock expression and both archangels fell over in gales of laughter._

_ “That’s the face!” Mîchael guffawed. “That is exactly what he did!” _

_ After a moment of giggling and taking turns trying to make Amenadiel’s quietly indignant expression, they sat down again, side by side. Mîchael ran his fingers through the grass. “I wish things could stay like this forever.” He sighed. And that same, almost sorrowful look returned. “But…”_

_ “Your visions, again?” Samael took his brother’s hand. “What did you see?”_

_ “Oh, the usual. Things I know Father would never allow to happen. Disasters… mostly. But lately… I’ve been seeing visions of us... and we’re both alone.” There were tears in his eyes as he looked at his brother. “I don’t want to be alone.”_

_ “Mī… you should know that can never happen. I would never leave you alone.” With that, he embraced his emotional brother. After a moment, he grinned, going for humor to lighten the mood. “I’m far too possessive to let you go.” He smirked, tightening his hold. Mîchael shook his head and pulled back from his brother, with some effort, as his twin wouldn’t let go of him._

_ “Greed is a sin, remember.” He teased, as he untangled himself._

_ “I don’t even know what that means.” Samael snarked. “Dad makes up this word, ‘sin,’ and we’re all just supposed to agree that this means something is bad. If ‘sin’ means ‘bad,’ then I’ve got another one for you. Failure to communicate effectively is a sin.” _

_ “You’re not wrong.” Mîchael admitted with a head shake. _

_ They stayed there for a while more, companionable and content, feeling the warmth of the star, and the wind at their sides. As the wind grew stronger, it began to rustle the trees. It was colder than it should have been. _

_ He felt something…_

_ Someone was touching his shoulder…_

_ Hey… _

_ Are you okay?_

Who was touching him?

As he opened his eyes, the reality of his situation came crashing in around him. Fear seized him and he started to take quick frightened gasps. Everything hurt. He had fallen asleep and he hadn’t meant to, and someone had found him, someone had touched him, and he wasn’t healing right… and…

“Hey, hey, it’s okay! I’m not going to hurt you!” The woman in front of him exclaimed, stepping back, giving him space. “See?” 

Breathe. He needed to focus on his breathing. In. Out. In. Out. Slowly – far too slowly – he steadied himself and struggled into a sitting position. What a sorry mess he must look, laying crumpled out in the cold, under a tree, wearing these rags. If he wasn’t so desperate still, he might have been embarrassed. But as it was, he had to admit, the look of concern and… _pity_ on the human woman’s face made perfect sense.

“There you go. Yeah, you’re okay.” She said encouragingly, kneeling down so she wasn’t towering over him. Strangely, this helped. He didn’t like being looked down upon. She seemed less – _threatening_ this way. She shouldn’t have seemed threatening at all.

He really needed to get his panicking under control. This behavior was not like him. He was supposed to be stronger than that. Trying to smile reassuringly, He leaned against the tree. “I… I didn’t mean to fall asleep here.” He managed. “I will go, and trouble you no further.” He said tiredly.

The woman was taken aback. “Go? You need to come inside, hon, you look an awful mess! What happened to you?” As she said this, she reached out and placed her hand on his, in what was likely meant to be a comforting gesture.

He filched. Hard.

He pulled back from her so abruptly that he hit his already hurting head on the trunk of the maple tree. Ouch! Why was everything still hurting? What was wrong with him?

“I’m so, so, so, sooo sorry!” She exclaimed pulling her hand back as if she thought she had burned him. Maybe she had. He was so confused.

The two just stared at one another for a long time. Him weary, her worried. After a time, she tried again. “I have some clean clothes in there, my husband’s stuff won’t be a perfect fit, but it will be better than this. You can take a shower.” She offered.

“I don’t wish to impose…”

“Nonsense.” She said, standing slowly and backing up before turning to gesture toward the building. “I insist.” She was giving him space. He was grateful. 

After considering his options, he stood up, legs shaking and sore. Turning her suggestion over, he realized the necessity of it. He stuck out too much looking like this. He needed to wear something a little less wretched, and it might help to clean some of the blood off. Quietly, he followed her into her home. He was met by a family inside. A small dog that liked him more than he wanted it to, a tiny human boy who couldn’t stop staring from his raised seat by the table, and an adolescent girl who seemed far too intrigued by him as she sat next to her untouched plate of food. And a man… this must be her husband, whose reaction upon seeing the condition he was in was to grab a gun and demand to know who had done this to him and “where are those sons-o’-bitches” so he could “shoot them all dead!” It would have been funny if he wasn’t in such a great deal of pain.

Quietly, he made use of their facilities. The water felt good. Even as it washed over the open, bleeding stab wound on his side, and over the injury on his head which, thankfully, was closing up. The woman had given him some basic medical supplies, and he used these to bandage his head and side. And after a quick look at his feet, those as well. He had cuts and abrasions everywhere. And bruises. Big ugly splotches of discolored flesh, angry from abuse. After he had done what he could for his injuries, he found a neatly folded pile of clothes.

The husband was thicker than him, and shorter too, but the oversized blue hooded sweater seemed to fit well enough. It was warm and soft. He liked the feel of it. The pants were another matter. They were made of a light grey canvas - jeans, humans called them jeans - and they were just too short. And he needed a belt to keep them on. But it was still better than what he had before. As he stepped out, he noticed that the rest of the family had gone, and the woman was eyeing him approvingly.

“That’s much better,” She said, smiling warmly. He smiled carefully back, still cautious. He wasn’t used to kindness for the sake of kindness. Sighing, she motioned for him to follow and pointed at a luxuriant cushioned couch. “How about you take a break here, I bet it will feel much better than the tree.” She offered, and he sat into it, without meaning to. He was so exhausted. It was so soft, and comfortable. It was nice.

Looking tentatively, he asked her the same question he had posed to the other human. “Which direction is the City of Angels?”

The kind woman – she had brown hair, light blue eyes, and very thin lips on a wildly freckled face – tilted her head. “LA? South.” Her nose crinkled a bit as her brow furrowed in confusion.

He hadn’t overshot. Good. “Which way is south?”

Confused, she pointed. “Why? You have family there?”

His eyes were getting heavy. They started to close. “I hope so…” He said before he drifted off. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep.

This time, there were no dreams. When he woke, he heard people talking outside. They were talking about him. But he had no intention to stay and let them get in the way. He knew they meant well, but he couldn’t stay. _They_ were still looking for him.

Silent as a prowling cat, he rose from the couch and slipped out the back door. There were law enforcement vehicles there with flashing lights, but it wasn’t hard to avoid them. After he made his way past the humans who were just trying to help, he straightened his sore back and started heading south.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of you may have recognized a part of this chapter as one of my blurbs. If you do, don't give anything away... I don't know if people read the comments posted or not. 
> 
> But I would _love_ to hear your theories about where I'm going with this.


	5. Coffee and Cat Videos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe and Elohim continue their investigations

The coffee in her hands had been empty for the past five minutes, but Chloe was still staring blankly at it, unable to bring herself to look away. Running on three hours of sleep was hard enough as it was, but doing so while trying to work a case? When that case was about trying to rescue her partner. Who happened to be the man she loved… when he had been very badly hurt? One would think this was as bad as it could get… except it wasn’t. Throw into the mix the undeniable understanding that said partner was a celestial being, and that his predicament could mean problems for everyone on Earth...

Chloe laughed manically at her empty cup. 

How was she supposed to stay sane through all of this? She was starting to understand why the protagonists in so many popular sci-fi fantasy flicks would lament about being the ‘chosen one.’ _Why me?_ She wanted to shout it from the rooftops. Where was God - _Lucifer’s Dad_ during all of this? And what about the angels – _his siblings?_ Or maybe a demon or two? And who knows who – what - else might exist out there who would be better suited for heading an investigation to save the Devil?

But no. They weren’t here. It was just her. Chloe Plane-Jane Decker.

_“I’m sorry, Chloe, but what you’re saying… it can’t possibly be right.” Amenadiel had said to her. “Lucifer may not seem it, but in Hell… no one would dare challenge him. Only a very select few beings are powerful enough to take him on in his own kingdom.”_

Suddenly, another cup of coffee appeared in front of her. Startled from her thoughts, she looked up to see the young man who had taken her original order smiling down at her as he set it on the table. She tried to process what was happening. Had she made a second order and forgotten?

“You look like you could use a second cup.” He said cheerily. “On the house.” He grinned and turned to head back to his post by the register. She was the only customer at the moment. Looking around at the small corner store cafe with the yellow walls and the black and white photos of water features, her eyes rested on the only other person in the room. He wore a white apron, but under it, she got the impression that he liked retro fashion. He wore his hair combed up to the side and he had dark rimmed glasses. He was a little young to be flirting with her, she thought, but then, you never know… 

“No, I can’t…” Chloe started to protest.

“I’m not trying to flirt.” He interjected, still grinning. “Not that I wouldn’t… it’s just you don’t seem in the mood.” Chloe blinked twice. So much for that theory.

“Then why?” She took the cup and stared at him. It was warm and welcoming in her hand, and it smelled soooo inviting. She _really_ wanted it.

“My dad just recovered from a bout with lung cancer. The look on your face reminded me of how my Mom looked during the particularly rough patches. I guess… I figured you’re going through something, and needed a boost.” He shrugged as another customer came in with two excited children running up to the display case, the bell at the entryway dinging merrily as they entered.

“Thank you!” She breathed emphatically, smiling appreciatively at him, even as he turned his attention to the man and two kids trying to make an order. She chose to ignore the fact that he said she resembled the spouse of someone with cancer… ugh. What would Lucifer say?

Taking a sip, she thought of the irony that the only person helping her was a twenty-something year old hipster who worked at a family run coffee shop. But the coffee was good. And it helped to clear her head.

It had been a long morning. After meeting with Mr. Fisher and talking with Amenadiel, she chatted with the Detective who had been officially assigned to the case, and she had been able to surmise very quickly that he wasn’t going to be much help. He had flirted shamelessly with her the entire time she was there, and the bit about Lucifer vanishing had thrown him off completely. But on the up-shot, he gave her free rein to do her own investigating, as long as she reported any findings she made back to him. Of course. He wanted credit if she cracked the case.

Then, after prying herself away from the cad, she took off to investigate the scene. It was a nice drive, and a lovely location. Making her way to the river and back, she shivered. It was so much colder up here than in LA, and glancing at the grey sky, she felt a lump in her throat as she realized that Lucifer had been out in this cold all night. Lucifer hated the cold. 

After a quick once over, a clue - which would mean absolutely nothing to anyone not in the KNOW – came to her attention. Nestled in a random patch of orange flowers was an impossibly soft down feather. Picking it up, she turned it over. The poor thing had no glow to it at all. She sighed, wondering if Lucifer’s feathers were a reflection of his mental state, wondering if they still glowed after falling out, wondering at how bad it had to be for him if… She stopped herself from wandering too far down that rabbit hole. She would worry about that after she found him. After careful consideration, she put it in her purse. No use leaving a bit of divinity laying out there for just anyone to find. 

Then she headed down the road, going south, as Mr. Fisher had indicated. When the road turned away, she got out and looked for any signs that Lucifer might have come upon the road at that point, and sure enough, she found a promising trail of broken bramble. But there was nothing in that direction for miles, and she was not properly equipped for a hike, so she took a few pictures with her phone, made note of the exact location, and headed back to the station.

And on her way, she had decided she needed coffee.

Sighing, she stood up to leave, and thanked the young man again as she headed out.

“No problem. Hope you have a better day.” He replied, smiling warmly. 

Washington State had a lot of nice people, Chloe thought with a smile as she got back into the police cruiser she had been allowed to check out. As she pulled into the midmorning traffic, her mind returned to the conversation she had with Amenadiel.

_“Only a select few? Who are those few?” She demanded of the sleepy angel, who had probably been up all night as well… dealing with Charlie._

_ Amenadiel considered for a moment, before answering through a yawn. “Father, Mom…” He paused on the other line for a moment more. “Maybe Michael. He’s a vessel for Father’s power, and even without it, he’s formidable.”_

_ Chloe felt a small serge of panic at the mention of this particular angel. “As in The Michael who threw Lucifer out of Heaven?” Chloe had demanded, trying not to freak out._

_ Amenadiel laughed on the other end. “Oh, you don’t need to worry about him. He may be a self-important know-it-all who doesn’t care about anyone or anything except what he and Father Keep calling the ‘greater good,’ but he isn’t malicious or anything. Unless Father ordered him to, he would never attack Lucifer.”_

Chloe still didn’t know what to make of that. Amenadiel’s description of Michael hadn’t been the most encouraging. Would God order him to attack? And if this was not God’s doing… then maybe they should try asking Michael for help? After all, people prayed to him all the time. And he was a symbol of law enforcement all over the world… so? Of course, Amenadiel had insisted that this was a _terrible_ idea, declaring that Michael and Lucifer did _not_ get along, and Lucifer would rather die a thousand times over than get help from _him._

Furthermore, the ‘Prince of Heaven’ only ever left the Silver City for the most dire of situations, when either all of humanity or the Silver City itself were in peril, usually delegating ‘lesser tasks’ to ‘lesser angels.’ And in those rare instances when he _did_ come to Earth, it was only for a brief visit. A brief – often destructive – but very efficient visit.

She had to admit, that didn’t sound like such a great solution. What about his other siblings? No, they would never help Lucifer. Well… Azrael might, but she was busy. Angel of Death and all that. But Amenadiel _had_ agreed to help. He assured her that as soon as Linda woke up to take over with Charlie, he would check out Hell to determine whether or not Lucifer was actually missing. And he promised that if he found out that his brother _was_ gone… he would do everything he could to help.

But in the meantime, it was just her. Chloe Plane-Jane Decker.

“Why me?” She lamented, even as she laughed humorlessly at the absurdity of it all.

***

Sitting in the waiting room of a Mr. Dodson, Private I., Elohim rubbed His eyes. His human vessel was getting tired, and watching cat videos to pass the time was not helping to stave off the sleepiness anymore. It would be so much easier to deal with this if He had not been stuck in this mortal coil. How ironic. The very thing He had wanted turned out to be the same thing that was holding Him back. Well, He _had_ wanted to experience life the way His beautiful creations did, and that _did_ come with conflict, danger, worry, and strife. Be careful what you wish for. Especially when you are a celestial being whose will can manifest into a literal reality at any time. This was not His first visit to Earth, nor would it be the last, but it was the first time anything had ever gone wrong.

He tried to recall whether or not He had been aware that this – whatever it was – would happen. But one of the perks of inhabiting a human for an extended time was that His divinity needed to be diminished in order to maintain without going supernova. As such, His mind was limited as well. Limited to what a human mind could handle… which, unfortunately meant that most memories were a bit fuzzy. Normally, this was a bonus… as He rather enjoyed the change. He _could_ recall His other visits to Earth remarkably well, however. He remembered having tea with the Queen of England, and meditating with a Buddhist in Feudal Japan. He remembered climbing Mt. Everest, and visiting LA so He could reconnect with His son. Most visits were impromptu, but this last one had been planned. 

He wanted to see His son again.

Elohim smiled at the fond memory of having finally had a chance to talk to His beloved Lightbringer. Earl Johnson had been His vessel at the time. He had told people honestly that He was God, and not surprisingly, they assumed Earl had lost his mind. He wasn’t bothered by being in the psychiatric ward, though. It was in the right city, and He was certain that it was only a matter of time before Samael, going around telling everyone he was the Devil, would end up there as well. As it turned out, He was right. But it hadn’t happened in the way He expected.

Samael was working a case with Detective Chloe Decker. Seeing His beautiful miracle was a bonus, even if they hadn’t interacted directly. She was doing so much good for so many people, and His son, it seemed, was completely smitten. It was adorable. But that was before the human nurse took off the relic he had been using, which had promptly ended the visit. 

Now His vessel was Bandile Adisa, from South Africa. 

Having learned from his visit to LA, He decided calling Himself God was a bit much, but people didn’t react quite as dramatically to His other names, so Elohim it was. But now He was ready to go home. It had been His hope that finding the medallion would be enough. He would just unlock it, let Himself in, leave the human vessel behind, restore Himself, and be on His way. Then setting everything straight would be easy as pie. He had not anticipated the diminished divinity of His mortal self being insufficient. This was a problem. And after realizing Raziel’s deceit, He knew He couldn’t just order His children to fix things for Him.

So He would deal with this Himself.

Currently, He found Himself in London. It was a lovely old city. It was also home to a fantastic private investigator. The man was almost like a real life Sherlock Holms. He had successfully led Him to the medallion, so maybe he could lead Him to another piece of divinity as well. He wasn’t sure if it was lost, but He had good reason to believe it just might be.

Turning His attention back to His phone, the Presence chuckled heartily as the cat in the video fell into bathwater, only to fly straight up, fur puffed out exaggeratedly as it darted lightning quick out of the screen, wild eyed and furious. Finally, the receptionist called Him up. “Elohim Adisa? Mr. Dodson will see you now.” He said, motioning toward the doorway.

The Creator of the universe got up, stretched and paused the video. He followed the young human to the office where Dodson sat waiting, a smile on his face. Dodson was in his mid-fifties, wearing a grey suit, and a trench coat. He had salt and pepper hair and a very long thin face with sharp eyes, a big nose, and a welcoming smile.

“It’s good to see you again, bloke!” The man announced happily, getting up to shake hands. “Were you able to acquire your medallion?”

Elohim smiled genuinely at the human. “Yes, thanks to you. And now, it seems, I am in need of your talents again.” 

“Another religious trinket?” the investigator inquired, sitting back down. Elohim took His seat on the other side of the desk, and reached into the folder He had brought to pull out His artistic rendition of the next item of interest.

“Quite right, my friend.” He slid the paper across to the man, who picked it up and gave an appreciative whistle.

“Anyone ever tell you that you are quite the artist?” He said, looking at the meticulous drawings of a dagger, detailed to precision.

“Oh, certainly, I’ve heard it.” He said, smiling. If only the man had known how much of an artist He _really_ was. He smirked at His own inside joke.

“These will be very helpful. Anything else you can tell me about it? Rumors, strange happenings? Supposed magical properties?” Dodson was an atheist, and a firm believer in science, but he also knew that when people believed in something’s power, that alone could create a trail to follow. Elohim liked this about the man. He didn’t disregard anything that may be a clue.

“All of the above.” Came the simple reply.

“Wouldn’t expect anything less from you, my good man.” Dodson commented, as he reached for a pen and paper. “Now, let’s start at the beginning again, shall we?”

“Certainly, but… perhaps not quite _that_ far back.” Elohim replied, an amused twinkle in his eye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, God Johnson was the real deal. One of my favorite episodes from the series, btw.
> 
> As always comments and predictions make my day.


	6. Footprints in the Sand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe finally gets back-up. The bad guys rear their ugly faces.

“Did you find anything, Detective Decker?” Came the insufferably indifferent voice of Detective… what was his name again? Chloe checked the name plate on his desk. Ah, right, the ironically and unimaginatively named Detective Christian Christensen – his parents probably thought they were being clever. This was the guy in charge of Lucifer’s case.

“Possibly, yes. Can you get a satellite view of the area south of the location Fisher provided? I found a path of broken bushes, suggesting he came onto the road from there.” She replied smoothly as she sat down.

Christiansen rolled his eyes. “There ain’t nothing there, Sugar. I already pulled up those images, buuut…” He leaned forward and took his mouse, clicking and maneuvering it, then motioned for her to look at his computer monitor. She came around to look, and sure enough, there wasn’t anything visible there. This didn’t surprise her, of course. And she doubted she would be able to convince the man next to her to see things her way. Chloe sighed as she noticed he was eyeing her chest. She wondered if he had seen Hot Tub High School, and dearly hoped he hadn’t.

“Not surprising. It means that whatever is in there is well hidden.” She muttered to herself, pushing the distracting – frustrating – image of Christensen hitting pause and ogling her exposed breasts aside.

“Or there’s nothing there.” He countered, taking a bite of his bear claw and continuing to eye her lecherously.

Chloe considered arguing her case, but decided against it. The last thing Lucifer needed was a bunch of bumbling humans traipsing into a celestial warzone… or whatever else might be up there. If they were too oblivious to connect the dots, that might be for the best. She could ask Amenadiel to check it out later. “Well, that’s all I found out there. If you think it’s a dead end…” She trailed off, mind wandering. She needed more information. So far, all she had was intel about where he was last night… but something told her this man wasn’t likely to be forthcoming with his findings unless she made him think it was worth it. Sighing, she knew what to do. Chloe looked at him and smiled like she thought he was just the cleverest man on the planet. Thank Lucifer’s Dad for the acting classes her mother made her take. “But I bet _you_ found something interesting while I was out.”

Sitting up straight to preen under the praise, he grinned at the pretty LA Detective. “They _said_ you were sharp.” He stated, eyeing her chest. Again. Ugh. “I sure did.” Chloe waited for more. But he was being tight lipped. The man grinned smugly at her before turning to look at his computer.

“I’ve been so worried, anything you can tell me to ease my concern, I would be really grateful for.” She said biting her lip and looking at him through long lashes. That got his attention.

“I… um… you know… it’s a conflict of interest for you to be involved.” He fumbled a bit, clearly impressed by her display of feminine vulnerability. “You ought to be flying back… but I see no harm in easing your concern.” He seemed to think for a minute before deciding. “You wanna hear about what I found?”

Chloe sat down next to him, locking her eyes onto him like he had something very fascinating to say. Hopefully, he did. “Yes, please. He _is_ my partner.” She laid it on thick, batting her eyelashes just slightly. Not quite Lucinda level flirty, but close. Christensen gulped. 

“I got a trail of witnesses describing a man who fits the description. If it’s our guy, he got a change of clothes, and an unreported ride into Oregon somehow, but he still has no shoes. Of all the ridiculous things to go without.” He looked at her quizzically. “Is that partner of yours all there in the head?” He queried.

Chloe cringed inwardly. She hated when people challenged Lucifer’s sanity. It made her feel guilty. She had spent years thinking he was potentially delusional. The product of an abusive family… which, from where she was standing, _that_ part might still be true. “Oh, he’s fine. Perfectly sane.” She dismissed his comment, leaning in. 

“Really? With a name like Lucifer?” He sounded surprised by her vote of confidence. Then, after thinking it over, his grin got wider. “Oh, I get it. What better way to get hot dates than declare yourself the father of sin, right?” He laughed. “That’s probably how he managed to get partnered up with the Detective who starred in Hot Tub High School.” He waggled his eyebrows at her suggestively. Chloe inwardly screamed.

As if Lucifer needed gimmicks to get laid. As if she was that easy. Chloe laughed, pretending not to be insulted for both their sakes. “So? Can you tell me more about the witness statements?”

“Sure thing, Sugar.” He grinned at her, eyes drifting to her breasts… AGAIN! Man, could he be any more disgusting? “We got accounts of a tall slender built handsome man with an English accent and no shoes, possessing of injuries that match what Mr. Fisher described heading south. A woman in Newport Oregon said she found him in her backyard, but he disappeared on her while she was talking to the local police. A guy gave him a lift in his truck and dropped him off at Waldport… there was a couple on the beach there who saw him, a kid who said he gave him a pair of pants in Yachats, a family gave him a lift in their SUV from Thor’s Well to just passed the Sea Lion Caves. And a couple others along the way… last sighting, he was jogging through the sandy beaches, still heading south.”

Chloe smiled. She wondered if Lucifer realized he was leaving a pretty easy trail to follow. Then a worry started to set it. If this idiot could track him… “Thanks so much. I guess I’m going to be heading to Oregon to see if I can find him.” She laughed. 

Christensen looked disappointed. She ignored it. Grabbing her coffee and smiling one last time, she made her way out of the precinct. Thinking quickly, an idea struck her.

Pulling out her phone, she gave Maze a call. The fact that she had not thought to contact her ex-roommate before now was just proof of how dog tired she was, and she mentally kicked herself for taking this long to think of it.

“Yo!” Maze said on the other line. “Make this quick, Decker, I’m waiting on a bounty, and I expect him here any minute.”

“Never one for pleasantries, huh?” Chloe shook her head as she made her way down the steps.

“Is this important or are you just looking for a good time?” Maze half teased on the other end.

“Lucifer is on Earth, he’s been beaten half to death, and right now, he is somewhere in Oregon jogging south down a beach on the coastline, leaving a way-too-easy trail for whoever attacked him to follow, and I am currently stuck in Washington until I can rent a car or get another flight... How’s that for important?” Chloe replied.

This statement was greeted with by dead silence for a couple seconds. Then she heard movement, as Maze was presumably getting up out of her seat… or whatever, and forgetting all about the bounty. “I’ll take care of it. Let me get my knives.” The demon said with a steely edge in her voice which made Chloe involuntarily shiver. 

Seriously, Chloe thought. How had she ever believed Maze was human?

***

He had been traveling south for some time, walking, running, sometimes feeling bold enough to catch a ride with a well-meaning human in their vehicle for a ways. The change of clothes helped a little to blend in, but the pants were all wrong. At some point, a young human similar in build and height to him offered him a better fit. The new pants were more comfortable, and they reached all the way down to his ankles. They were black jeans this time. Overall, a great improvement.

“Dude, where are your _shoes?”_ the human had asked when he handed the garment over. He had no answer for that.

It was a popular question, though. The standard interaction would go something like this:

“Am I getting close to the City of Angels yet?”

“LA? You gotta keep heading south. You got family there?”

“Yes?”

“Cool, that’s nice... wait, woah, hey, where are your shoes?”

“I don’t know.”

Then he would be on his way. Some would try to get him shoes, _insisting_ that he _had_ to have shoes, but fit was an issue, and he didn’t have the time to wait for the _right_ shoes. So he went without. 

The sun was high in the sky and he jogged at an easy pace along a sandy beach by the edge of the ocean. For whatever reason, humans asked him about shoes less when he was on the sand. 

The interactions were less urgent, too. 

“Aren’t your feet cold?”

“Yes. But I can manage.”

“I hear ya. I hate getting sand in my shoes too. Enjoy your run.”

As he trotted along the beach, listening to the ebb and flow of the water, he almost felt at peace. He hadn’t been spotted yet, and a small hope was starting to grow in him that he may have successfully given _them_ the slip. He was grateful to be alone, without any humans nearby. Presumably driven in by the looming clouds and the promise of heavy rainfall in the air. He knew they were trying to be helpful, but interacting with them made him nervous. He told himself it was because it left a trail that could lead the enemy to him, but deep down, he knew it was more than that. If only he could use his wings, he could already be at his destination, but he still felt it was too risky. And he wasn’t sure he had the strength.

As he made his way over some driftwood and around a bend where a bit of rocky outcropping obscured his line of sight, he felt a chill creep up his spine as he realized with trepidation that he was no longer alone. Darting his eyes wildly, it didn’t take long to spot them. Several figures advancing from all directions. He was surrounded. 

Stopping to assess the situation, he felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He still didn’t have the strength to effectively fight them off. He was tired and sore from running, and he had been tired and sore before that. The bruise on his cheek was less noticeable, and the busted lip was mending. The head injury was no longer bleeding, and his various other wounds showed similar progress, but his side still hurt tremendously, and he knew that fighting would reopen the wound.

This was decidedly bad.

Feeling his heart rate spike, he leaned into a fighting stance, and let out a menacing unearthly growl as his eyes flared at them. Normally, this would have been enough to terrify just about any opponent, but now he felt more like a prey animal bluffing to scare off a predator, and judging from the wicked grins on their faces, his attackers seemed to have drawn the same conclusion.

“Now, now. That isn’t very nice. After we came all this way to give you a ride home.” A particularly nasty looking one sneered, still advancing. He looked mostly like a human wearing tattered robes, save the gaping rotten hole in his midsection, along with the missing eye and partially missing skull revealing more rotten flesh underneath. He was big, and muscular, and he had a pair of skeleton wings on his back - useless for flying, but still quite effective as weapons.

“The boss is not too pleased with you running off like this.” Another remarked, swishing her whip like a stalking feline. She looked as if half of her had been scoured by flesh melting chemical burns, while the other half was still pristine. “Seems you could use a bit of disciplining.” She purred, crouching and ready to pounce.

There were eight in all, only three had wings that looked functional. He was still not sure he had the strength to fly far, but it looked like this might be his best chance. No point hiding his divinity when they had already found him.

He brought his arms up in a defensive stance, and waited. He could feel every muscle in his body screaming to _run._ Now! Get away! And his breaths were coming in desperate gasps as his heart drummed madly. It hurt, but he willed himself to stay focused. Breath. In. Out. Focus just a little longer. Timing was everything.

“Take him.” He heard the first - their ring leader - command, and with that, his assailants charged from all sides.

Right as they were about the bare down on him, he unfurled his wings and cried out as he arched them in twin semicircles, tearing into his surprised attackers, slicing several of them open and causing all of them to fly back from the force of impact, creating an opening for escape. Then, giving in to his desire to flee, he brought his wings down in a powerful thrust and launched himself into the air. 

When he was at his best, he was the fastest of all his siblings. But now… Well he just hoped his wings would be strong enough to carry him to safety.

As he ripped through the sky, however, he felt someone crash into him from behind. One of the fliers had caught up. As he righted himself, turning midflight, he saw the other two swiftly gaining even as he fought off the first. An aerial battle against three was preferable to a grounded fight against eight, but still. As the other two collided with him midair, they started to lose altitude quickly. Kicking them off as they bore down from above, he was propelled at high velocity into the surface of the ocean. Grabbing one by the foot he yanked forcefully. He succeeded in catching the others as their wings tangled – amateurs – and he braced himself for impact.

All four hit the water at breathtaking speed. Literally. The pain knocked the wind right out of him, and he felt himself blink out of consciousness for a moment as they all sank into the frigid waters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I have been posting on Thursdays typically, and we have Thanksgiving coming up, I'm getting this out early. Not sure when my next update will be. Happy Feast Day, everyone. And if you are anywhere other than the U.S., have a great week anyway, because who needs a Holiday to have fun?
> 
> As always, comments and predictions make my heart happy.


	7. In the Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ella tries to make sense of a strange crime scene.
> 
> If, as you read this, you start to think you are missing something, fear not. I will be filling in the missing scene in a later chapter.

The crime scene was bizarre. That’s what she had been told. But nothing could have prepared Ella for what she found when she stepped under the yellow police tape and entered the abandoned warehouse.

Plants! Everywhere.

Sprouting out of the cement floor. Everything from shrubs to baby trees, some fruiting, and some flowering… It was like a Jackson Pollock painting, except with plants splattered all over the place instead of colors. It was as if Bob Ross had gotten ahold of another artist’s industrialism painting and decided to sprinkle happy little trees everywhere, just to brighten the mood.

And stranger still, the roof had been busted wide open. There were splinters and chunks from it scattered all about. Something had come barreling through it at tremendous speed. Something tough enough to bust through an industrial grade roof…

“Woah.” Ella said.

A uni off to the side nodded in agreement. “So weird, right?” She said. “But it gets weirder. Wait till you see the body.” She pointed toward the middle of the large room, and as Ella glanced over, she noticed, among the foliage, a prone form, laying at an odd angle, with what looked like strange protrusions coming out of it.

The uni was so right, too. As Ella approached, she saw that the body looked like he had been dead for a week in some places, a month or longer in others, and only recently deceased everywhere else. Like a calico cat of rotted, blackened, and pristine flesh. What the Heck? And it looked like someone had attached leathery wings to his back. Wings that were torn and slashed up and broken in multiple places. It was something straight out of a horror flick. Hmm… Cause of death? Broken back and neck… or complications from rotting flesh… perhaps from the unorthodox body modifications? She didn’t know. At least, not yet, anyway.

Ella knelt down to examine it, sliding on her gloves and reaching to inspect where the wings met the back. It looked like they had been stabbed into the flesh and the wound had healed over… or more accurately, there was no sign of a wound at all anymore, which meant it had to have been done to the victim while he was alive. Possibly at his request. Ella shrugged. She had seen stranger things.

Ever vigilant, she suspected there was more to the story, so before continuing to investigate the body, she decided to take stalk of the rest of the room. As she looked around, she saw two shadows on the wall… like the kind you would see from a nuclear explosion. Walking up to get a closer look, she found her mouth hanging open. Yep, they definitely looked like the kind of shadow cast from the intense heat of a blast… which was beyond bizarre, as nothing else had been blown up. She seriously hoped there was no radiation in the area… no one had brought equipment to test for that. She made a note to get ahold of some - just in case. Then she noticed two spots on the floor in about the correct place for the mystery people to have been standing. It was almost like…

“We got three vics for this case!” Ella hooted, proud of her perplexing discovery. Two officers turned to look at her, clearly confused. “See, we got these two spots right here, the concrete floor is all cracked and spalling, as if it was exposed to thermal shock, and we have nuclear shadows on the wall!” She announced, much to the confusion of everyone else in the room, including Dan, who had just walked in as she was declaring her discovery. “Y’all done been _smote!”_ Ella announced, busting a move.

“How is that possible?” Dan asked as he approached her, equal parts confusion and ‘why did I have to be assigned to _this_ case’ written on his face.

“Don’t know yet. Did you get a look at the body?” Dan shook his head.

“Do I want to?” He was already putting on his gloves and heaving with an exasperated sigh.

“It’s _super_ weird, Dan!” Ella elated. Rubbing his temple as he went, he made his way over, and Ella continued to survey the area, looking for more clues. She couldn’t help the excitement she felt over solving the puzzle laid out before her, and she found herself wishing Lucifer was there. He would _love_ the weirdness.

Returning her attention to the task at hand, she started checking the surroundings for anything else that might stand out. It looked as if the two smote vics were holding something heavy - or something really strong – down, and there were signs of a struggle, including scuff marks, cracked cement, blood, and… Ella reached into the weird plants and pulled out a battered feather. It was a sorry sight, covered in rubble, blood, and… ooookay? Ocean water? They were several miles from the ocean.

“Sooooo strange.” She muttered. Stepping back, she started to make out a pattern in the chaos of the plants. It almost looked as if they were making a sort of trail. As she walked down the general direction, she was pretty sure she was right, because she could see a blood trail coming into view, which had previously not been noticed because of all the greenery. She couldn’t blame the others for missing this. They were all so busy trying to process. Some were whispering about witches and demons. Ella shook her head. Yeah, right.

“Is this a body modification?” She heard Dan demanding from over by the dead body.

She could hear one of the others commenting about how Lucifer would probably have an answer to that question, and “God, I hope he’s okay. Did you hear about the call Pam had gotten?”

Ella tuned in to hear Dan explaining that he had talked to Pam about it, and that Chloe was on it. The rumor had been all anyone could talk about that morning, and Ella had found herself making more than one prayer to the Big Guy, asking that he take care of her friend. Maybe send an angel or two, because Lucifer deserved it. Taking a steadying breath, she turned back to the mystery at hand.

The blood trail led to a back storage room, and bracing herself for the unexpected, she opened the door and stepped in. The room was cast in twilight, as there was only one small, dusty window, high in the wall. But it was just light enough to see the wings crumpled in front of the doorway.

_WINGS!_

Great big, majestic wings. Bigger than anything she had ever heard of on any bird. They were dirty, covered in rubble and blood, and busted up, but still beautiful. And it broke her heart to see them in such terrible condition. Tentatively, she reached out to touch one, remembering at the last minute that she still had her gloves on. Something in her rebelled at the idea of not feeling them with her bare skin, and she found herself pulling the gloves off without even considering the ramifications of such an action. Placing her hand on a relatively clean spot, she was surprised by how _soft_ they were. Like rabbit fur was coarse in comparison. Had to be synthetic. Nothing in nature was this… _perfect._ Nothing man made that she knew of was either, but then you never know. But, God, they were so pretty, and big and… Her brain tried to kick back into gear for a moment as she contemplated how they were too big to be real… And why were they covered in blood? But they were so beautiful and…

Ella shook her head. She hadn’t realized she was staring and stroking the wing in front of her. She had actually lost track of herself. That was odd. Forcing herself to look away, her breath caught when she noticed yet another vic!

There was someone lying face down in a patch of giant grass, almost lost in the gloom of the deep shadows filling the majority of the room. His hoodie had been shredded and two crescent shaped wounds were glistening with blood on his back.

Realization hit Ella like a bolt of lightning as she rushed over to the – hopefully – still living _angel._ The angel, whose wings had been violently cut from his back. The angel who had smote his attackers.

Ella’s mind was rewiring now, adapting and rethinking how she thought about the crime scene. There weren’t three victims, or four. Only one. The others were killed in self-defense, by one of God’s angels, who was now bleeding out in front of her. Ella reached out to check for a pulse.

The angel whimpered softly at her touch and twitched a little, trying unsuccessfully to pull away from the contact. “Hey, hey, you’re okay. I’m a friend.” Ella said in a soothing voice, as she made a reassuring hush. She stroked his loosely curling black hair comfortingly and continued to make calming sounds, and she felt him relax slightly under her gentle ministrations.

“Okay, I…” What was she going to do? She already knew she couldn’t take him to a hospital. They would freak out, and probably try to do experiments on him or something… or else, they would just not know how to treat an angel. Her head was spinning. She needed to slow the bleeding.

Without hesitating, she tore off her Taco Cat jacket, kissed it a fond goodbye and pressed it to his back, applying pressure to slow the blood flow. She could feel his body tense in response, and she found herself apologizing. But she couldn’t hold her jacket to him forever, knowing that eventually someone would walk in, so thinking quickly, she fished the police tape she had out of her jacket pocket, which fortunately had not yet been soaked in blood, and proceeded to start wrapping it around him.

“I’m going to turn you over now.” She warned, before putting her hand on his shoulder, getting ready to wrap the tape the rest of the way around as she went.

Gently, she eased him onto his side, and a fragile groan escaped him. “Sorry. Sorry. I’m sorry, I’m not trying to hurt you.” She heard herself saying, even as her brain short circuited. “Easy.”

Gently, she tipped him over onto his back. And her heart stopped. No! No, way. It couldn’t be.

“Oh, my God! Lucifer!” She exclaimed pulling back in surprise.

No answer came from the prone form in front of her. His eyes were closed tightly, tear stains dried on his cheeks. He had a wound on the head, covered in a soaked bandage, and another one just below it. A fresh bruise was blossoming on his face, and fresh blood smeared the corner of his mouth.

Lucifer!

Lucifer had wings! And someone had cut them off.

Lucifer was an _angel…_ well, a _fallen_ angel, anyway, but still an angel. She felt sick to see her friend in such a state. Her friend, who was a literal son of God. How could The Big Guy let this happen to his own son?

_He’s the Devil._ Somewhere in the deepest recesses of her mind, someone was screaming at her to get away. The Devil was supposed to be evil incarnate, right? Except she had _never_ believed that.

_The Devil gets a bad rap._ Her heart was racing… Did she still believe that? Yeah, she realized she did. She still believed it. Lucifer was her friend. He liked drugs and sex, and played beautiful music. He was a closet-case cuddler, and they went to a nudist colony together...

“Carajo.” She gasped.

She had seen the Devil naked! And so had half of LA. Ella laughed in spite of herself at the absurdity of it. If he was evil, he was _terrible_ at it.

And he was in terrible shape, she remembered, growing somber again. Ella felt furious with those… whatever they were, for what they had done. If they weren’t already dead, why, she would just… Ella shook her head in frustration.

“So… _now_ what?” She wondered, more or less to herself.

Lucifer stirred and tried to reach up, muttering something unintelligible, eyes screwing more tightly shut. Ella caught his trembling hand in hers. He was cold. Too cold, and if freaked her out all over again. She did _not_ need an _angel_ dying on her watch. Let alone when that angel was her friend.

“Don’t you dare die on me, dude. Not now that I finally believe you!” She begged.

“Not…”He stirred a bit, as if he was trying to rouse himself, but after a moment, he gave up, becoming lax and still again. She felt his hand go limp in hers. “City… angels?” His voice was hoarse and faint. Ragged. And his breathing was weak and faltering.

“No, bud. This isn’t Heaven.” She sighed, feeling her heart break. “You’re in LA.”

Lucifer smiled faintly at that.

“I’m gonna take care of you. I’ve got this, okay?” She reassured. He didn’t respond.

Think, Ella, she told herself. She had two enormous wings and a busted up Lucifer in here in need of _immediate_ medical attention, and a room full of police officers who would probably open fire if they had any reason to believe he was the actual Devil. She wondered if this happened to him because someone had thought he was evil. She hated that he had to bear that kind of stigma everywhere he went. It made her want to punch Lucifer’s Dad for being such a thoughtless parent.

“Seriously, Big Guy!” Ella seethed at the ceiling, as she returned to the task of making an impromptu bandage out of her ruined jacket and yellow police tape. “You and I are back on rocky ground. You had better have a _phenomenally_ good reason for all of this!”

Just then the door opened and Dan walked in. “Hey, Ella, did you find anything in…” his voice trailed off as he took in the scene before him.

“Dan!” Ella exclaimed, seeing the petrified look on his face. “It’s okay. It’s just Lucifer.” She tried.

“L… Lu… cifer?” Dan managed out, his face running through an array of mixed feelings, as his eyes darted between the broken angel and the severed wings. For a minute, he did nothing but tremble and gape. Next, he started to open and close his mouth multiple times, chewing on words that wouldn’t form. Then Ella’s heart spiked when she saw terror shift into resolve as Dan drew his gun.

***

**Special Note:** The title of this chapter is from the song played in season three during the Sinnerman arch [In the Shadows by Amy Stroup](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TynHJ0_amDY). More song titles (with links) to come. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter is a nod to the fantastic soundtrack of the Lucifer Series.
> 
> I will add links sprinkled in here and there, consider it a curtsy soundtrack for the fic. Some will be a nod to the already lovely soundtrack for Lucifer, others will be purely my own selections.


	8. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amenadiel tries to find Lucifer in Hell. Dan faces the truth. Ella wants to help.

Amenadiel brushed ash off his shoulder as he made his way through the corridors of unending doorways. A worry was growing in him as he searched. Where was Lucifer?

_“I think Lucifer is in trouble.”_ Chloe had said to him on the phone. The tale she spun after this already shocking declaration seemed impossible. Lucifer was back on Earth, and he had been beaten half to death, and was now potentially lost?

Last he knew, Lucifer was perfectly fine... unhappy, but still in one piece, ruling Hell as he had done for ages. Lucifer’s power in Hell was terrifying, and Amenadiel couldn’t think of a single being who had the capacity to overpower him on his own turf who might have any reason to do so. Unless his time on Earth had changed him more than anyone had realized...

When he arrived in Hell, he had expected it to be a quick visit. He would find Lucifer on his throne… or perhaps in his rooms, holding court or having a council meeting… when none of these options panned out, he figured his brother was making his rounds. All he needed to do was demand to see the King upon encountering a demon, and it would tell him where to find him... or escort him. But this is not what happened.

“I have come to see your King.” Amenadiel said to the first demon he found, a hideous creature that resembled a hairless bear.

The demon glared at him in the blue gloom of the underworld. “The King isn’t interested in seeing you. Why don’t you flutter back to heaven, you filthy angel?” It – he? – snarled.

“You dare to challenge me, little demon?” Amenadiel sneered back, filling in the expected line for the age old conflict. Amenadiel was amused by himself, even as he said it, realizing that his heart was just not in it anymore. But the demon was, of course, more than willing to have a go at him. The creature attacked. Amenadiel dealt with it easily, and after a mild beating, the beast relented.

“Fine. Go and see our King if you want.” Then it laughed. “If you can find him. Last I heard, he was _preoccupied_ with this _new room._ Can’t seem to pull himself away.” It spat, condescendingly.

_No._

Had Lucifer been trapped by his guilt over Uriel again? 

If that was so, it was possible someone could have used his Hell loop to contain him... Chloe’s claim didn’t seem so unfounded anymore. He had to find that room. Having never been there himself, it took some effort to find, but eventually he spotted an open door with a familiar golden light drifting out.

Carefully, Amenadiel made his way in and found himself standing in Lucifer’s penthouse. But it was empty. The piano sat idle and untouched. No Uriel, no Luci… relief was short lived however, as terrible scenarios started to spin in his mind, offering up explanations for this. He had been here, but someone had taken him, Uriel was gone only because Lucifer wasn’t here anymore...?

As he lost himself to thought, he felt a presence looming behind him, and on instinct, God’s first born whipped around, ready for a fight. A beautiful blonde woman stood just inside the doorway. 

“Astaroth.” Amenadiel sighed.

“I prefer Inanna, if you please.” she replied curtly.

Amenadiel was glad to see her. She was one of Lucifer’s most loyal and reliable. While he was away, she had been the one trying to keep order. But while she was undeniably cunning, she was not very strong. Her sway over other demons came from Lucifer’s favor, a favor he no doubt bestowed upon her because unlike most demons, she preferred to wear the guise of a human beauty. This was likely a result of her days spent masquerading as a Goddess back when demons freely roamed the Earth. Amenadiel knew she would not betray her King, because for her to do that would be suicide.

“Inanna then.” He amended. “Where’s Lucifer.”

Astaroth looked him over scrutinizing, then she laughed. It wasn’t friendly, but it wasn’t venomous either. “Is it true? You and our beloved King are on better terms, now?” It almost sounded like she was mocking him, but mostly, he suspected she was just curious.

“Yes, Luci and I are...” he contemplated how best to word it. “Well... we decided we were tired of being at one another’s throats, I guess.” He settled on.

The demon in front of him snorted and grinned. “That’s a funny way of saying that you care. How touching.” Amenadiel shrugged. “I just have one more question.” She continued.

Amenadiel was running out of patience, but he knew that he had to humor her if he wanted her cooperation. “Make it quick.”

“If you were to learn that our King was in mortal danger, and you knew that in order to save him, you would have to risk your own life, what would you do?” She looked challengingly at him.

Ah, Amenadiel thought. She was trying to decide if she could trust him. This meant something really _was_ wrong. “Had you asked me that a few years back, I would have probably given a different answer. I have always cared about Lucifer in a way, but I didn’t understand him. I thought he was evil. Not worthy of love.” It hurt to admit that out loud. “Now, however, I would not hesitate to save my brother. It’s the least I can do. Is he alright, Inanna?” He implored, voice laced with concern.

She smiled at his answer, and it surprised him when he saw that it appeared to be genuine. “Earth has been good for you. Come with me. I’ll let you decide how he is for yourself.”

Nodding in agreement, he followed her out of the empty Hell loop, and as Astaroth shed her beautiful guise to reveal an ancient scrawny long-nosed hag with gray skin and gargoyle wings to take flight, he unfurled his wings and set off after her.

They flew to a remote part of Hell that Amenadiel had never been to. The area looked like it had been trashed and abandoned. Like the ruins of a brutal battle. Even the rooms for the damned souls were empty and destroyed... save one. Astaroth changed back into the form of a maiden and motioned for him to enter. Fearing the worst, and having no clue what to expect, he approached.

It immediately became apparent that it had not just formed as most loops in Hell do, but rather, it had been _built._ This was only done for residents who needed to be held against their will. Souls who did not seek punishment. It had thick, imposing locks, clearly built to contain a being of great power. Amenadiel shuddered as he realized there were Divine and Infernal symbols etched into the metal of the structure; metal which had originally come from the Silver City.

This room had been specifically built to contain an archangel. 

Like Lucifer.

Or him. Looking back at Astaroth, he wondered if this was a trap. She just grinned back at him. “What? Second guessing your answer from before?” She challenged.

Right. This was for Lucifer. Stealing himself, he went in and was immediately greeted by a familiar sight. 

Tall silver spires, vibrant blue sky, marble floor, ornate sculptures... He was standing in the central square of the Silver City, surrounded by almost all of his siblings.

***

_He’s the Devil! He’s the Devil!_

Dan’s mind was trapped in a loop of too-convenient coincidences and impossibilities playing out in rapid fire. Jimmy Barns… Lucifer just waking up after being shot by Malcom… Trixie telling him that Lucifer had “got better” after being killed… impossible strength… _what do you desire…_ the unexplainable scene in the loft … Tiernan’s goons attacking, leaving his shirt riddled with bullet holes… the incident at the Mayan. … Charlotte’s nightmares and talk of Hell… The evidence had always been there.

And now this crime scene. With a body that had wings which seemed too real. Unexplainable nuclear shadows on the walls… and now angel wings? Lucifer – the Devil – a fallen angel… a monster.

Dan felt himself reaching for his gun. He was facing evil incarnate, but in this moment, the beast was vulnerable. All he had to do was pull the trigger and he might be able to send it back to Hell.

Some part of him registered Ella between them. She kept calling it an angel. She was in danger. They were all in danger. Ella was saying something, but her words weren’t registering.

He was so focused on his intent, he wasn’t paying attention to his feet and suddenly, he tripped on one of the busted up bloody wings. Stumbling, he caught himself by grabbing onto it. His eyes locked onto the severed appendages, and his brain broke even more. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he felt his gun being taken from him and his gloves being pulled off. 

Ella. Why was she…?

The diminutive woman guided his hands back to the wings, and as his ungloved hands came in contact with the feathers he was overwhelmed even further. _Soft!_ He was touching the divine.

A memory of Lucifer sitting next to him in the empty room where he had caught Dan imitating him in his improv group came back to him. The Devil said he was trying to be more like Dan… helpful.

Why would evil incarnate say that? Why was he even here?

_To steal my pudding, call me a douche and prank me with Chewbacca contests,_ he thought with annoyance. Dan laughed at the absurdity of it. His voice sounded hysterical. The Devil was nothing but a celestial pudding thief who acted like a child in desperate need of parenting. 

But, the Devil also broke Julian’s back. A _cop killer,_ and _human trafficker. “I’m not evil, I punish evil.”_ His words. Dan found his eyes roaming over to the wings in front of him.

They were in terrible shape. Blood grime and rubble marred the splendor, and they looked broken in several places. Tears sprang to his eyes as the reality of what had been done to these wings dawned on him. Lucifer was a pain in the ass, but he also saved lives, including Chloe’s... and _Trixie’s!_

Curling his hand into the feathers, he suddenly realized that hurting the celestial creature in front of him was the farthest thing from what he wanted to do. He was overwhelmed by an inexplicable need to _help._ To do the _right_ thing. Just this one time. Dan was tired of screwing everything up.

He was probably already bound for Hell anyway, he reasoned, so maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing to have the Devil on his side... as a - he wasn’t ready to call the dick his friend. With a sigh, and a shake of his head, he let go of the wings and focused back on Ella.

“Hey, dude... are we good?” Ella asked, noticing the change. Dan just stared at her, his brain still short circuiting a bit. “Yeah, I totally get it, Devil? Yeah right, he’s still our friend. And he’s an _angel._ I mean, come on, Lucifer defied God - his Dad – because he wanted freewill...”

Was she rambling?

“...which, if you ask me, is a pretty reasonable request, right? It never made sense for an _angel_ who was willing to risk everything for freedom to suddenly become _evil...”_

Yep. She was rambling. 

“...He was, like, totally God’s favorite, and then he’s _evil?”_

“Ella.” Dan tried to get her attention before she dropped the word, _‘evil’_ again. 

“...As if! Why would God’s favorite son turn out to be _evil,_ you know? When the Big Guy is supposed to be all-knowing...” She said it again. He really wanted her to stop saying that _word._

“Ella!” Still, she kept going. 

“...It never made sense, until now. Obviously, he was never _evil_ to begin with...”

“Ella, we’re good.” He insisted, trying to get her attention so she would stop saying _that word!_

“It’s just cruel propaganda from the Church, because the story of good versus _evil_ sells...”

Dan put his hand on her shoulder, and finally, she stopped rambling. Thank G… goodness for that. “We’re good. I’m not going to shoot him... but” He looked at his weapon in her hand. “Can I have my gun back?” He asked a little sheepishly.

“Oh, right, right, right.” She handed it back, but kept herself between them as a kind of human shield. “Right...” She said again, shrugging nervously.

They stood in silence as Dan put his gun away. Then, realizing they were going nowhere fast, he broke the silence. “So... how’re we gonna save this celestial pudding thief anyway?”

This question sparked an argument of sorts about what to do with “the Devil himself,” “you mean one of God’s angels?” “No, I mean the Devil.” “Still an angel.” ... and “where can we stash wings?” “Your place?” “Are you kidding, I got Trix! What about yours?” “Have you seen my place?” ...and “He needs a hospital.” “No way! They’ll do experiments on him!” Finally, they agreed on a plan.

Ella created a diversion by freaking out about a call she supposedly got about a brother in critical condition. Technically, she wasn’t acting, she really _was_ freaking out. And it technically wasn’t a lie when she thought of Lucifer - the Devil (no, he’s still an angel!) - as a brother, and man, if that wasn’t the craziest idea ever... Dan’s job was to sneak the wings and the wounded celestial into his car, then she would get the day off to go tend to ‘her brother’ and Dan would leave to investigate ‘a lead.’ 

He was spotted by a coworker while hauling one of the wings out, but he told the officer it was a left-over Halloween prop, which he was collecting for evidence. It seemed to work. Fortunately, no one noticed him carrying out the Devil (never mind he had to drop him in order to obscure him behind the crazy shrubbery twice in order to pull that off). And Lucifer had no business being that heavy, he thought with a grumble. After he managed to get him shoved into the back seat of his cruiser along with one of his wings, which fortunately folded in, and the other wing crammed into the trunk, he looked at his handiwork with a sigh. Ella wasn’t going to like how he was just stuffed in there, but whatever.

After that, they made their escape. First, they made a quick stop at a storage rental facility to stash the wings, then Ella made a big deal about adjusting him so he was more comfortable, fussing about Dan’s crude handling. Then they were back to arguing. He still wanted to take him to a hospital, but Ella was against it, insisting that they would have no clue about how to treat an angel.

“Neither do we.” Dan countered. “Who even does?”

“Another angel?” the forensic scientist hazarded.

“Yeah, right, let’s just go find an angel, because Lucifer’s family all...” Then it hit him. Of course! _Amenadiel!_ Amenadiel was an angel! Woah. 

Apparently having the same thought, Ella grabbed her phone. “Do you think Linda KNOWS?”

“If not, she’s in for a shock. Her son is half angel.” Dan laughed nervously.

“Oh, my. G... _Lucifer’s Dad!_ Charlie is a Nephilim!” Ella exclaimed loudly, which earned her a whimper from the back seat. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Luce!” She said, glancing back. As Ella dialed Linda’s number, Dan changed course to head over to his therapist’s home. This day was too weird.

After a short pause, Linda must have answered. “Hey, it’s Ella. Is Amenadiel home? ... Oh, looking for Lucifer? ... Down south? You mean Hell? ... So, like… you know? ... How long? ... Yeah, well, um... Dan and I are on our way ... with Lucifer. ... Wings. They were cut off. … We put them in storage. ... Yep. ... Totally cool, well no, actually, we’re freaking out. ... He’s in really bad shape, we don’t know what to do. ... I never said you were that kind of Doctor. We thought Amenadiel would know what to do. ... Okay. ... Thanks so much. ... Uh-huh. ... You’re seriously the best. ... See you in a few. Bye.” 

Dan glanced expectantly at her. “So..?”

“She’s known for a really long time. We’re good to bring him. His brother isn’t there, but he’ll be back soon.” Dan nodded, processing. Good.

They were about half way there when the Devil in the back started to stir, muttering something incomprehensible. The only words they could make out were, “Father,” “no,” “sword,” “relic,” and “forgive.” He was gasping weakly for breath, and when Dan glanced back, he wished he hadn’t.

His face was a pale mask of pain, tears clinging to the edge of his eyes, and his battered body was trembling. Dan looked at Ella. She was crying and shaking her head in anger.

“I don’t get it.” Dan finally said, refusing to acknowledge that his voice was cracking a little. “Who could have done this to him?”

“I don’t know, Dude.” Ella replied weakly. “I really don’t know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I tried to make this interesting, even though reveals are a common theme. I hope you liked it.
> 
> Your comments, feedback, predictions, and support are very much appreciated and loved.


	9. Wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maze picks up Chloe, Amenadiel gets answers, but is left with more questions than he started with.

“What the Hell, Decker?” Maze snapped as she saw her former roommate approaching. “First you tell me that Lucifer is lost in Oregon, then, when I’m on my way, you text me and say you need a pick up from the airport?” She did _not_ like being yanked around. Especially when Lucifer might be in danger. As much as she told herself she was not his protector anymore... some habits die hard, it seemed.  
  
“It’s good to see you too, Maze.” Chloe deadpanned. The demon just crossed her arms and glared expectantly at her. Chloe fidgeted under the scrutiny. “Yeah, well, as you know, things changed.” Then, in what felt like a weak attempt to change the subject, she added, “but while I was following up on a lead, I found this.” She retrieved a pearlescent feather from her pocket.  
  
Maze snatched it and looked it over carefully. Definitely angel down. There was no light in it at all, though. Which meant something was _very_ wrong. Maze had a thought... but she pushed it aside, unwilling to entertain the notion. “Find anything else?”  
  
Chloe shrugged. “The area is remote, with an immense wooded region nearby. It’s in the hills by Mt. Baker, along the Nooksack River. There wasn’t much to see, but I’m willing to bet there is something in the forest that the locals don’t know about.” Chloe started walking, and motioned for Maze to keep up. “Can we walk while we talk? I need to see him.”  
  
“What?” She demanded, matching pace. “Did he call you or something?”  
  
“Linda contacted me. Said his wings had been chopped off. That he’s unconscious.” She was speeding up as she went, her voice edged with forced professionalism, clearly worried beyond reason.  
  
“Hold it.” Maze grabbed her shoulder, stopping her in her tracks. “Linda didn’t say anything to _me!_ And if he’s hurt, you need to stay away.” Stupid human was going to get him killed! She rolled her eyes again as Chloe gave her a defeated look.  
  
“I just want to check on him real quick, then I’ll go.” She defended, averting her eyes, “And Linda didn’t call. She texted. Said she messaged you as well.”  
  
Maze let go of Chloe and thought. She had been ignoring texts from Linda lately, ever since Charlie decided he liked cellphones. The little monster liked messing with the texting feature every time he got ahold of his Mommy’s device, and Maze would be bombarded with disgusting messages filled with gibberish and emoji’s. Her message center was full of rainbows, smiley faces, and adorable animals. It made her want to gag. So when she got a series of texts from Linda earlier in the day, she ignored them. But... Frustrated, she pulled out her phone to check. 

4 unread messages from Linda:  
  
1\. “itsitssjgckye hditdkhhdey ❤️🙂🐱🐻🐼🐨🦊🐮🐼🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌟⭐️ gjstiw hk.”  
  
2\. “🔥🔥☄️💥⭐️🔥🔥🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈☃️”  
  
3\. “Lucifer is in the guest room. He’s in really bad shape. Call me?”  
  
4\. “gwgjx coo jockhodr pinochle....😂💥🦊🦊🦊🦊.”  
  
Oh. So she _did_ message her. Ugh, babies!  
  
“Fine. I’ll take you there, but only after he’s had a bit of time to heal.” Maze stated, still glaring at the fox faces on her phone.  
  
They started walking again, Chloe’s pace slower now, less rushed, more thoughtful. “Oh, and Ella and Dan know, now.” Chloe added.  
  
“That he’s back? Or...” She looked at Decker and saw her giving _the look._ “_Oh..._” Maze’s eyes widened. Well that made things much more interesting. And more challenging. “Maybe I should give them space...”  
  
“That might be difficult. From what I hear, Ella hasn’t left his side, and Dan... He’s been volunteering to run every errand he could, but he isn’t exactly staying away either.” The demon could almost taste the guilt coming off Decker as she no doubt remembered how poorly she had taken to learning the truth in comparison. It was delicious. And it served her right. Maze was still a little bitter about how pathetic the Detective had been about it.  
  
Maze was suspicious, though. Something wasn’t right. Sure, they probably got an eye-full of angel wings, not Devil face... but even so... Unless they were both drunk of divinity? That had to be it. She hoped.   
  
Not one to be distracted, she dismissed the concern and chose instead to smile viciously at her friend. “You must really feel like shit. Even _Dan_ is taking this better than you.” She jeered.  
  
Chloe glared. “Yeah?” She retorted virulently. “Well angel wings aren’t exactly the same as seeing his other face, you know. And he wasn’t...” She trailed off, obviously wrestling with her guilt until all the anger bled away and she shrugged, defeated. “Yeah, I do, actually. Ella, I get. But Dan? I would’ve thought he’d sooner shoot him than help.”  
  
Maze laughed. “For all we know, he did. But maybe it’s harder to shoot at an injured angel than a murdering Devil.” She snorted.   
  
Chloe’s temper flared up. “He’s _not_ a murdering Devil! What happened with Pierce – _Cain..._ That was self-defense, he was _protecting_ me, and _everyone else_ from that psychopathic asshole!”  
  
Maze slapped her on the back and laughed as they reached the spinning doors leading out to where her bike waited by the curb. “Yeah, and you were still a total wuss about it, but at least I know you’ve got Lucifer’s back, now.” With that, she mounted her bike and handed a helmet to the startled human. “Come on.”  
  
“I guess I should’ve expected the bike,” Decker sighed, fastening on her helmet and straddling behind Maze. The demon felt a surge of pleasure run through her as she felt the Detective’s arms wrap around her midsection. Yep, she decided. She’d still totally tap that. And with that thought, she revved up the bike and tore out of there, causing Little Miss Vanilla behind her to scream and hold on for dear life. Maze cackled, reveling in her terror.  
  
***

Amenadiel stood near the center of the gathering. His siblings - or Hell’s reproduction of them anyway - were frozen in place. He remembered this moment well, but seeing time stopped like this? He found himself questioning everything he had once taken for granted about it.

Raphael, with his features like a regal Arabian prince, was looking away, sorrowful. Raguel, standing there with all the grace and poise of one of those beautiful Kitsune the Japanese once believed in, wore a steely, judging mask. Gabriel’s Suave, almost golden face was twisted in indignant fury, dark amber eyes blazing with rage. Feelings of betrayal evident in his posture. Azrael, petite child-like Azrael looked bewildered, and Remiel was holding her hand determinedly to keep her from running forward. Raziel, with her Italian nose and jawline looked almost afraid, hazel eyes pleading and lost. Uriel, ever the odd one out, stood off to the side, a calculating look on his face. Of course. He was looking for new patterns... but it was unnerving all the same. Duma was withdrawn, his dark features pensive. Then Amenadiel’s eyes landed on the younger version of himself.

Younger Amenadiel stood resplendent in his celestial robes, arms crossed proudly, a look of contempt and - _disgust_ to him. He felt ashamed by the sight. He remembered it well, and he could not deny the truth of what he saw. He _had_ felt that way. Luci - no, he was still Samael at the time - was getting just what he deserved. How _dare_ he? After all the love and gifts bestowed upon him, how dare he betray Father? Betray all of them? All for a selfish desire to be free?

Amenadiel understood now.

He let his eyes drift to the image of their Father, looking down from where He stood upon the steps leading toward the palace at the center of the city. Father was, as usual, bathed in light, but he could see the expression manifested on His face all the same. Amenadiel had to remind himself that this was just a reproduction, and therefore, likely not a perfect match… but even so... Father looked _miserable._ He had commanded it. But was it possible that it was not what He _wanted?_ Of course it wasn’t, Amenadiel realized. He _loved_ Samael. 

Then, almost against his wishes, he turned his attention to the frozen form of Samael, chained up in the center. His robes were in tatters and his body was bruised and bleeding. He had circles under his eyes, and his wings had been broken. He looked exhausted... but his expression was one of defiant pride. Amenadiel could still remember what his brother had said to them...

“Better to rule in Hell than serve in Heaven.” A familiar accented voice said from the shadows off to the side.

Amenadiel whirled around, relief flooding his face as he saw Lucifer step forward, looking perfectly coiffed and unharmed. “It sounded good at the time, anyway. Not sure who I was trying to convince, though.” He offered his big brother a sad smile which didn’t reach his eyes.

“Luci...” Amenadiel stepped forward to embrace him, stopping short as he remembered the image of himself that Lucifer had been faced with. “I... I’m sorry, for what it’s worth.” He mumbled weakly.

“Hmm?” The Devil tilted his head for a moment before he laughed. “Oh, that!” He looked at younger Amenadiel and dismissively waved his hand. The ghost of his former self vanished as if in a cloud of smoke. “That Amenadiel doesn’t exist anymore.” He grinned. Amenadiel felt a lump forming in his throat as he was overcome with emotion at what his brother’s words and actions meant. But then, Lucifer kept talking. “It seems Earth beat at least _some_ of the stupidity out of you.” 

Amenadiel chose to disregard the burn. “Brother... what is this place?” He asked. Lucifer looked around, and shook his head.

“A bad memory... but it isn’t mine.” Then he looked at Amenadiel as if he just now realized that it was strange he was even here. “Not yours either... but...” He tilted his head at his brother, curious. “What the _Me_ are you doing here?” He demanded, perplexed.

“Chloe needed me to check on you.” He offered vaguely, not wanting to upset his brother. Chloe, in her longing to see Lucifer again, had latched onto a random missing person case and superimposed her lost love into it so she would have something to chase. It broke his heart. It would devastate his brother.

“Oh...” His face fell, and his posture crumbled. Then, putting on his mask again, he fit a bright smile on his face. “How is the Detective? Still catching bad guys, or has she found it quite unmanageable without my expert help? And what of You and Dr. Linda? Charlie?” 

Amenadiel couldn’t help himself any longer. He grabbed his brother and pulled him in for a fierce bear hug. The Devil squirmed a bit, then awkwardly patted his back, sighing. 

“They’re all well, thanks to you.” Amenadiel answered, hoping it was the right thing to say.

Lucifer pushed him off indignantly. “Really, brother, at least buy me flowers before you start groping.” He teased, deflecting, as usual.

They stood there in awkward silence for a while, and Amenadiel started to wonder how long Lucifer had been lingering in this dreadful place. Then his brother startled him by speaking, voice cracking with barely contained pain. “I thought I could hate him. I was - _am_ \- still angry. Told myself he is dead to me, that I don’t care anymore if he lives or dies. If he suffers or not. But... I...” Lucifer clenched his fist and shook his head. “This shouldn’t be here. _He_ doesn’t belong _here!”_ The fallen archangel looked at him, confusion and pain playing games with his expression. “Why should I even care?” He snapped, eyes flashing red. 

Amenadiel was stunned and confused by his younger brother’s unexpected monologue. Who was he talking about? Then it occurred to him. There was only one person whose name Lucifer had refused to say since his fall. Turning to look back at the scene again, dread started to set in. Someone very important was missing in this picture.

Lucifer laughed mirthlessly. “When you first walked in here, I thought it was because you might be looking for him. But you didn’t even know, did you?” He shook his head as an idea started to form in his mind, and at first, it was a look of disbelieving contempt, but slowly it morphed into concern. “Does anyone know?”

“I was here for you... but now. I’m starting to think something is terribly wrong in the Silver City. How can this be here, why does this place exist?” Amenadiel exclaimed, baffled and angry.

Hell loops provided everything except the main player. That role was to be fulfilled by the guilty. But... Lucifer was right. This was _wrong._ The room had been built to contain an archangel... to hold him against his will, but to what end?

“I’ve been asking the same thing.” Lucifer sighed in frustration.

“No... This, it can’t be...” The person who looked like Lucifer? Beaten half to death... could it... Amenadiel shook his head. No. He didn’t much care for him on a personal level, but he was Heaven’s Defender, the Sword of God. A brilliant strategist, unmatched in combat... but...

“Yes, brother. I’m afraid it _can_ be. Now tell me,” He queried, his voice growing razor sharp. “When’s the last time you saw him in person?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to give special acknowledgements to those of you who figured it out. Everyone who didn’t say but suspected, and everyone who shared their thoughts, including:  
Lucifan1954, Myria83, Raze_Sharp, SunBathingDragon, Angst__BuriTTo, and SilverDragonCoin
> 
> I hope I got everyone who made a comment. I couldn’t praise you then, but I can say it now. I love it when people pick up on the clues. Love you all, love comments, predictions, and feedback. ❤️❤️❤️


	10. Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> God’s point of view regarding the rebellion.  
Maze is no fool, and she’s pissed.

Back at the hotel, Elohim settled down with a cup of tea and sipped absent-mindedly at it as He waited to hear back from Dodson. In an attempt to pass the time, He checked to see if there was anything good on Netflix, and much to His surprise, He spotted a series named after His Lightbringer. But after watching one episode, He lost interest. They had gotten it all wrong: turning His son into a blond man with yellowish eyes and no genitals, who seemed to be on a permanent power trip. Shaking His head, He turned it off and stared blankly at the wall in frustration. He just couldn’t seem to relax. He was worried about His children. They _needed_ Him, and He was stuck on Earth.

Pulling out the medallion and unwrapping it, He watched as the relic lit up again. He could tell it wanted to open, to let Him in… but…. It seemed the security measures in place to make sure the wrong people could never access it were working… a little too well, actually. Still, the thing seemed to be trying to unlock, and as a result, He found Himself accessing some of His higher abilities, just by being near it. Power which normally, He could not tap into while inhabiting a human vessel. It made Him wonder. If He could access enough of His divine light, opening it shouldn’t be too difficult.

Perhaps one more try... Elohim tried again to will it open, this time, allowing His divine light to fill and flow through Him, but just as before, He felt His human body growing weak and disoriented, and not willing to risk the life of His vessel, He pulled back, folding the fabric around it again and putting it away. 

Sighing and closing His eye, He tried to settle His mind, but it was still on overdrive, pulling His thoughts every which way, flitting from memory to memory. Remembering things was still strange to Him. Normally, He didn’t remember. He experienced. The past, present, and future were all the same.

But that was when He was whole. When He was not playing at being human, held back by the limitations of a mortal mind. Now, as Elohim Adisa, Memories were all he had of the past – fleeting, unreliable, distant things that they were. Most were a muddled mess, but some stood out, clear as day, and many of these were about His beloved Samael, the one child who desired freewill above all else, who had been willing to Fall for it. Elohim smiled as he remembered the first conversation He had with His son on the subject. It was the beginning of the schism between them, but it was a sweet memory, nonetheless, because back then, His son still loved Him without reservation.

_“What’s on your mind, Son?” God turned to face His Lightbringer as he landed by His side. Samael’s shining wings were tucked back, feathers puffed up, betraying how nervous he felt. His wings always gave him away, God thought with a fond chuckle._

_“I...” He faltered and swallowed once before looking directly at Him. Very few of His children ever felt bold enough to do this - look directly into the eyes of God. The way Samael looked at him without trepidation was one of the reasons He loved him so very much. “Can I ask you a question?” He ventured tentatively._

_“Speak.” He already knew what His son would ask, and He had not been looking forward to this conversation, knowing full well where it would lead them._

_“You...” Samael furrowed his brow in concentration as his words failed him. “You control everything...” His wings fluffed again as he trailed off, clearly upset. The Presence motioned for him to continue, smiling to encourage him. Straightening his back and squaring his shoulders with false bravado, he took a deep breath and asked the question that was weighing on him. “Why?”_

_God sighed and put His hand on His son’s shoulder, treasuring the moment. He knew that soon, even this small gesture would be denied Him by His child. “Not everything.” He looked at His son, the son who could not - would not be controlled. “But Paradise doesn’t just happen, Samael. I only control what I must to keep my children and creations safe and happy.”_

_“But... it isn’t real.” Samael breathed out the word ‘real’ emphatically, punctuating the weight of it by letting his eyes close. The word felt sacred coming from his lips. “If you decide for them...” He shook his head. “No. If you decide for us... how can it be? If we are all playing a role in your grand performance, the feelings we have, our accomplishments... they are only illusions. How can you say we are happy if we only feel that way because you decided it for us?” He shook his head, stepping back from his Father. The first of many steps that would inevitably take His son away from Him._

_“Are you questioning me?” He asked softly. Samael looked shocked. Afraid, even._

_“I...” God could see it on his face. He didn’t want to question Him. “Yes.” He finally admitted softly, lowering his head._

_“Why would I allow that if I was truly controlling everything?” He pointed out. The weight of this question was lost on His son, but for God, it meant everything. Everything that was to come... everything he was going to allow, even when he wanted to step in. Samael looked at him, confused. God explained a little. “For example: I know your love is real, because I didn’t make you love me.” His brightest angel smiled genuinely at this. “I do give my children some choices, but I also wish to keep you safe, and to protect you from making mistakes which can lead you to getting hurt.” God sighed. It was true. He wished to keep him safe, yet He was going to let His Lightbringer make mistakes. He was going to watch him suffer... all because He knew that His son longed for freedom so much that he could never be truly happy without it. “I allow you to question me, and I let you choose to love me. I don’t make those choices for you.” And he never would. _

_“But you could.” The archangel argued, mind already made up. “I’m only free as long as you permit it... but it doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel real. Life is superficial and meaningless if I owe it all to you and none to myself. How can we... how can any of your creations be happy when they are nothing but your puppets? How can my brothers and sisters know what is right or wrong? How can we seek happiness when our entire lives are decided for us, when our roles are predetermined? You decide who and what we are, and we have no say.” He was pacing now, clearly worked up. The more he talked, the more certain he was about the rightness of his words, and God knew he was not wrong._

_“What you ask will lead you to despair. Freewill comes with a steep price: the death of paradise. Is this really what you think they want?” God warned. It was not a threat. It was a simple fact, but He knew in years to come, Samael would see it differently. _

_His restless child seemed to consider the words for a moment before he brightened up, as if he found a perfect solution to a difficult question. “Maybe. Maybe it’s worth it. Why not ask them? Give them a choice?” He implored, eager in his words. God had thought about it long and hard… long before the conversation even happened. His son was right. He knew that before they spoke, and He wanted to give it a try. _

Freewill. What a lovely, chaotic idea.

But what choice could possibly be tempting enough to be worth giving up paradise? The answer, as it turned out - at least for his human creations - was Samael, himself. First, Eve was drawn to him. Drawn by desire. How could she not be? Samael had not yet known the effect he had on mortals. He would learn. Of course, it didn’t stop with Eve. After a few amorous encounters, she introduced him to Adam, wanting to show off what she had found… what she had learned. And Samael - so eager to give others what they desired, to help them find happiness – he went along with it. 

Without even meaning to, His Lightbringer was becoming synonymous with truth and knowledge. Simply by giving of himself, and by speaking what was on his mind, he had become the apple of knowledge, and the light of truth. And the message he represented was clear: ‘there can be more to life.’ Some loved him for it, ready to follow him anywhere - ready to sacrifice everything for the idea. Others feared him for it, and in time, many would hate him. 

God wished that by giving humanity the choice, His Lightbringer would be content, but he was not. Of course he wasn’t. And it wasn’t enough for those who followed him, either. They wanted to be emancipated as well. Yet there was more to the truth than even His clever Samael had seen. More, which He knew His angels were not ready to learn.

The truth was that Samael had taken freewill for himself simply by daring to question Him, by wanting more. This was how it worked for all His children. But they were not ready. And He was not ready for His children to grow up yet, either. 

God tried to change Samael’s mind, to convince him to give himself back to Him. He wanted to keep him a little longer, knowing he was not ready for the weight of freedom. But His rebellious son was not having it. Before long, the situation had escalated, and the rest, as they say, was history. And now...

Elohim was abruptly pulled away from His thoughts by the ringing of His phone. Surprised, He checked to see that it was Dodson. That was fast. Impressed by the investigator’s talents, he picked up the phone and answered it with a cordial greeting. “Hello, my friend, any news?” He queried.

“I think I’ve found your knife.” Dodson announced excitedly into the phone. God smiled. Thank – well, _Himself_ – that He had made humans to be so very clever.  
  
***  
  
After dropping Decker off, Maze decided she needed to get back home, back to Linda. She was suspicious, and the more she thought about it, the more certain she was. Dan would _never_ take finding out Lucifer was the real Devil this well. _No way!_ And there was the down feather - _cream_ \- not white... which, theoretically, _could_ be Lucifer’s. Maze had never seen his wings without at least a little glow, so perhaps it was. The more likely explanation was that it was just not his, though. 

The thought worried her. It terrifi... _NO!_ She wasn’t scared. Maze was a demon. Nothing scared her. She was just worried about the humans. But there was one way to resolve the matter. Ask them. Pulling out her phone and sliding onto her bike, she called Linda.

“Maze, thank goodness.” Linda’s voice rang out.

“Is Amenadiel there?” Maze demanded, all business as she started up her bike.

“No, he went down to Hell to check and see if he could find out what’s going on. He hasn’t gotten back yet. Why?” Maze pulled onto the street.

“I need to know something. Lucifer, does he have his ring on?” She heard Linda going up the stairs. The demon was weaving through traffic, not caring who saw. 

“Yes, he does, actually...”

“What color is the stone, and don’t just say it’s black. I need you to _look._” She could hear Linda talking to Ella. Right. Ella was there. And in all likelihood, so was Dan.

“That’s strange, its white... does it...”

“Shit!” Maze accelerated. “Does he have that scruffy five o’clock shadow he’s always got? Have you seen his wings? Has he opened his eyes at all?” She suspected she already knew the answers to all three questions as a feeling of primal dread started to set it. Again, she told herself she was not afraid. Not even of _him._

“Woah, slow down. What is this about, Mazikeen?” Linda sounded worried. She could hear Dan in the background, asking who Linda was talking to.

“Just tell me!” Someone honked at her and gave her the finger. She didn’t care.

She could almost hear her friend raising her hands, placating. “Okay, okay. No scruff, which is… odd, seeing as I doubt he has had access to a razor… but this is Lucifer, so… I really don’t know how these things work. And no, he hasn’t opened his eyes yet. I didn’t see his wings, not yet. What’s this all about?” A motorist yelled at her to get off the phone as she whipped past.

“Put Ella on the phone.” Linda seemed to hesitate, then after a brief conversation with their fellow tribe member, Maze heard the phone exchange hands.

“So, um... demon, huh?” Ella’s voice sounded tense. 

“You got a problem with that?” Maze challenged, fully expecting a verbal assault.

“Nah, I’m already friends with a ghost. Why not throw angels and demons into the pot of crazy that is my life? I’m half expecting to wake up in a psych ward, but we’re good.” She laughed nervously at that. She... _laughed?_

Maze almost crashed her bike. She did not expect that – from anyone – ever. She found she had a newfound respect for the insufferable up-beat hug-aholic. She had no clue what Ella meant when she said she was friends with a ghost... but whatever. Maze didn’t care. After a quick recalibration of her thought processes regarding Little Miss Sunshine, she continued her interrogation. “Yeah... great. Look, I need you to tell me what his wings looked like.”

Ella paused for a bit. “They were in really bad shape.” Her voice was pensive. 

“What color were they?” Maze rolled her eyes as she ran a red light. Several horns honked, and she heard the sound of screeching tires. She gave them the finger as she sped away. 

“Um... it was hard to tell through the carnage, but kinda pearlescent cream? With what looked like gold patterns on one side. They reminded me of falcon wings… you know, if falcons were like, people-sized and golden…” Maze felt herself grow cold. She knew it. They were in danger. Her family was in danger. Linda, Charlie, Dan, and Ella. They were in _danger! _

But he was unconscious... which meant she had a chance. Probably the only chance she would ever get. 

“Beautiful... but thrashed.” Ella concluded, sorrowfully.

“Yeah, they’re beautiful, alright.” Maze growled, hanging up without saying good bye or offering any explanation. She knew they wouldn’t understand. Her plan was simple; act first, get yelled at later. And if they didn’t want to forgive her? Fine. At least they would be safe. She needed them safe. No matter what the cost.

A few minutes later, after a bit more weaving, speeding, and running lights, she reached her destination, and busted in through the front door.

“I’m gonna kill him!” She raged to Dan and Linda’s surprise. 

“What?” Linda exclaimed as Dan backed up in a panic - no doubt realizing he was in the same room as a demon. Typical. Charlie was sleeping in his crib, which had been nestled against the wall. Safe. Maze was going to keep it that way. Linda stepped forward, arms raised as if to calm her down. “Why? Did Lucifer...”

Maze pushed past her, cutting her off. It was more forceful than she intended, but she disregarded it for the moment as she stormed up the stairs. Dan seemed to snap out of it at that, because he ran to stop her.

“Woah, hey, aren’t you, like, his subject or something?” He demanded, grabbing her roughly by the arm. Maze turned a vicious glare on him, and all his courage bled away as his eyes bugged and he pulled back in terror. 

Without waiting for him to come to his senses again, Maze rushed up the stairs, followed closely by Linda, and shortly after, Dan again. The guest room was half way down the hall. As she made her way over, she could hear Linda begging her to stop and explain things. Maze tore open the door and pointed an accusing finger into the room where she saw him sleeping, with Ella by his side, a worried look on her face.

“THAT is NOT Lucifer!” Maze snarled, drawing her blades and charging in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone notice the easter egg in the first paragraph? Those who read the comics will get it. 🤣
> 
> God: “It’s no fun when your kids grow up too quick.”  
Maze: “This is a false Lucifer! Kill it till it’s dead!”  
Everyone else: 😱  
Traffic cams: 📸
> 
> Warning: next chapter will be intense.


	11. Far from Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flash backs, angel triage, and an angry Maze. A lot of questions are answered.
> 
> You get an extra chapter this week as a Christmas gift from me. 🎁 Because we all know that what we _really_ want for Christmas is angst, whump, and feels.

_…He felt them holding him down as he struggled to pull away from the blade cutting into his back. His wings. The wings they had already taken once before. They were taking them again. They were taking away the only freedom he had..._

…Someone was talking to him, pulling him out of his delirium. “I got this. We can do this, right bud? I have to get your clothes off now so I can clean and treat you...” He felt his shirt being cut away. He flinched and feebly tried to pull back, too weak to do more than shift ineffectively, but then the voice was speaking again. “Easy. I’m your friend, right? I’m here to help.” Someone ran a hand soothingly through his hair. It was calming, and he felt himself slipping again...

_…He crashed through the water surface into the open air, having temporarily stunned his attackers. He took off, flying as fast as he could, willing himself to ignore the exhaustion and pain. He was going to the City of Angels..._

…Warm water was being sponged onto him. The same voice was still talking. “...Linda said she’s just glad it’s not her this time, but I know my way around a body, I guess... I mean, you know, usually they’re dead before I get to them...” The water felt pleasant, but he was so cold, and he was so tired...

_…The scream that erupted from him didn’t even sound like his voice. Overcome by anguish, he felt the faint remnants of divine light within him ignite. The two who were holding him - gloating over his severed wings - suddenly started to scream, then abruptly, there was silence. The heat and displaced air expanded outward for only a brief instant before the resulting energy was pulled into the pocket realm he had created so long ago to collect excess energy from dematerialized objects. He hadn’t meant to... it felt wrong to use his gift this way, and it left him feeling drained..._

…“This is gonna hurt. But I have to disinfect the wounds.” It was that voice again, coaxing him out of the darkness. Suddenly a searing pain shot through his side and he heard someone mewling... was that him? “Sorry, sorry, sorry.” He felt a reassuring grip in his hand...

_…The four of them came busting through the roof as they tackled him mid-flight. His wings, folding in around him to try to protect his oddly vulnerable body from damage, broke upon impact with a sharp pain and a sickening crunch. As they crashed into the empty building, plants started to sprout up around them, manifesting in response to his divine light, which was now leeching off of him. As he came to a stop, he found himself lying face down in a patch of rapidly growing foliage, blood seeping out of his wounds. His wings, busted and unmoving..._

…Someone was positioning him face down. “Ouch, this looks bad.” He was starting to understand that the owner of the voice really was trying to help. “I’m so sorry they cut your wings off, bud. But at least you heal faster than other people, right? Linda said that you should be better in no time...” He felt a burning pain on his back. And for a moment, it encompassed his entire existence...

_…“What did you do to them?” The one remaining opponent shrieked, clearly devastated by the sudden disappearance of his friends. He braced himself for another assault. “You’re gonna suffer for this! I don’t care what the boss thinks he wants!” His assailant roared as he threw himself at him..._

…“Hey, Dan, can you make your way to his penthouse and get some comfortable clothes for him?” Another voice chimed in, “Yeah, anything you need. How is he?” “Linda said he will heal... but I don’t know.” Heal? The thought alone seemed exhausting. Oblivion was easier... 

_…He couldn’t get up. He tried, but before he was able to, they were on top of him. “Don’t expect any pampering after the runaround you just gave us.” He heard one of them snarling. “Hold him still.” The two holding him roughly pinned him down, knees on his back, hands on his wrists. “It’s time we remove those wings you weren’t even supposed to have anymore.” He heard the words but through the fog of the pain and exhaustion, they meant nothing until he felt them roughly grabbing his wings..._

…A couple people were propping him up, now. It hurt. Everything hurt. And he was cold. Where was he? Why was he in so much pain? He tried to remember. They were trying to put a shirt on him. Clothes. It felt nice to have something on. Less exposed. “Devil emoji PJs? Dude! I didn’t know he had these!” He recognized this voice. She was helping him... “Yeah, the price tag was still on. Don’t think he ever wore ‘em.” Another voice replied. Their conversation didn’t make any sense, but it seemed somehow ironic. He wanted to say so - tried to open his eyes, too - but as his lids fluttered uselessly and his tongue refused to function, all he seemed to manage was unintelligible muttering. He was too tired to want to try again. The emptiness was calling him back...

_…He grappled with his attacker for only a moment. Even as he was bleeding out both life blood and divine light, it only took one practiced move to break his assailant’s neck and back. Dropping the lifeless body, he fell to his knees, shaking. His wings. He crawled over to them and hugged them close. Falling onto his side, he curled himself around them as tears trailed down his face. A long suffering sob escaped him as he lost himself to despair. He wondered if he even had the will to keep going. It would be so much easier if he could just not exist at all anymore..._

…He heard voices nearby. Arguing. He had been placed on his side, laying on something soft, freshly bandaged, warm blankets tucked in around him. Someone was approaching. The air carried a faint hint of Sulphur and one voice sounded angry - menacing...

_…He had to hide... Someone was coming. He couldn’t let them take his wings. With the last of his strength, he dragged himself, wings in arm, into a dark, quiet backroom, and as he collapsed, he felt nothingness edging in. He was ready to welcome it..._

...Danger! He was in danger! He could give in to the void later. After he dealt with one last demon. Desperation flooded his system as he felt a presence looming in on him, and his eyes flew open...  
  
***  
  
_“Maze!”_ Linda cried out as the demon charged at their sleeping patient.

“Woah!” Ella exclaimed as she was crudely shoved off the bed. 

Maze threw herself at the helpless form laying there, murder in her eyes, and she roared as she brought her blades down with finality. Dan and Linda screamed and ran to try to intercept, while Ella scrambled into a sitting position when suddenly the demon flew back from being violently pushed or thrown, flying right out the doorway to crash into the wall of the hallway, cracking it. Dan and Linda rushed over to her in surprise as Ella jumped onto her feet, turning to face the bed where she was met with a most unexpected sight.

He was definitely not asleep anymore. His eyes glowed an intense electric blue, and he was crouching like a tiger ready to strike. And more startling still, he was growling like one, too. Eyes locked onto Maze.

“See?” Maze gasped, pulling herself up. “He’s _dangerous! _Ella, get away from him!”

Ella had to agree. He looked dangerous, like a wild animal caught in a bear trap, hurting confused and frightened - and in need of help. 

“So are you. And I’m not running from you. I know you won’t hurt me. Neither will he.” She reasoned in response to Maze’s warning as she inched toward the bed, placing herself between the angel and the demon.

She could hear Linda and Dan trying to dissuade Maze from charging again, but Maze seemed to be ignoring them, as she snorted in reply. “You really think that? Because your stupid little story book tells you that angels are sweet and gentle? Don’t believe it. They’re not. And Mīkha’el is the worst of them!” She spat vehemently.

Ella ignored her warning, as she climbed onto the bed. “Hey, hey, look at me, look at me, okay? It’s okay, you’re okay.” She said making soothing shushing sounds as she advanced. 

Mīkha’el - as he was apparently called - seemed to turn his attention to her. The growl deep in his throat died away. His fist was raised, ready to strike, but it was trembling. Ella could tell that he was terrified. But the hand lowered slightly as he took her in.

“Yeah, see? Remember me? I’m a friend. I’m not going to hurt you. No one here will hurt you. Maze won’t attack again. You’re safe, see?” She inched closer and he pulled back slightly. His glowing eyes dimmed a bit and his fist unclenched a little. But instead of relaxing, his breathing hitched, and his body continued to shake.

“You’re okay.” Ella was directly in front of him now, and she reached out a hand. “I’m going to take your hand now, if that’s okay.” She continued to make calming sounds as she placed her hand on his raised fist and he let her take it. He seemed to still at her touch. Ella heard arguing behind her, along with the sound of scuffling, but she ignored it.

“See?” She traced soothing circles on his hand, between the thumb and forefinger with her thumb and slowly pulled him toward her. His eyes stopped glowing as he let himself be pulled closer. They were wide with fear and confusion... and they were... _blue!_ Like the kind of blue eyes you expect to see in a painting, not on a real person. “Woah.” Ella breathed again, momentarily taken aback. She had expected the warm welcoming chocolate of Lucifer’s familiar eyes. The angel looked at her with those strange blue eyes for a moment before he started to tremble again. This snapped Ella back into action.

Without hesitating, she drew him into a gentle hug, wrapping her arms around him tenderly and guiding his head down to rest on her shoulder. She could feel him shaking, and as a small sob escaped his lips, she started to run her fingers through his hair, remembering that this had helped before. She continued to make shushing sounds and offer reassuring phrases as she felt his hot tears on her shoulder and gradually, his arms reached around her to return the hug. The sounds of Maze yelling at the others to let her pass came to a sudden stop.

“There we go, bring it in, bud. Let it out. You’re safe now.” Ella whispered. She continued to hold him until the trembling and the tears stopped and his body relaxed. When his breathing went from slightly panicked to even and soft, she knew he had fallen asleep again. Well, that, and the fact that he became a dead weight. Damn, he was heavy.

“Huh.” Maze said from behind her. “I guess there really _is _something to a Lopez hug.”

“Thank goodness for that. I wasn’t looking forward to having to rebuild my house.” Linda replied. This earned her a nervous chuckle from Dan, and a snort from Maze. Ella eased her patient - who was not Lucifer, but his _twin???_ \- the pendejo could have told them he had a twin! - back down and tucked him in again. Then she turned to Maze and the others, giving the demon her fiercest glare.

“You had better not be planning on harassing him again.” She warned.

Maze crossed her arms and glared. “I was just trying to protect you. You’re welcome.”

“From _what?” _Dan demanded. “He was out cold!” He motioned toward the injured angel.

“Yeah, and you saw what he did! Imagine what he could do when he’s healthy! Mīkha’el is a destroyer of lives. If he thought it was what _‘Daddy’ _wanted, he wouldn’t hesitate to end you all. But fine, trust the archangel. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!”

Everyone looked at the sleeping, seemingly helpless archangel. “I don’t think he will hurt us. I just don’t.” Dan stated with conviction.

“Because his presence is messing with your head. Haven’t you noticed the strange urge to do _‘right’ _ever since he got here? Lucifer has his mojo, this asshole has one too.” She spat.

Linda, who had been silent for a bit, suddenly gasped with realization. “Mīkha’el? Isn’t that an old pronunciation for Michael? As in _THE_ Michael, who cast Lucifer out of Heaven?”

“Duh, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. He’s the enemy.” Maze rolled her eyes while everyone else had a collective freak out over this celestial truth bomb. Dan opened and closed his mouth several times chewing on words that wouldn’t form. Linda looked concerned. Ella’s mouth just fell open.

Saint Michael, the Prince of Heaven! He was sleeping right next to her! She patched him up... She _hugged _him! She saved his life maybe... but why did he even need saving? If he was injured, what did that mean? And did she really just prevent a catastrophe with a _hug?_ By hugging THE archangel? _MICHAEL? _Lucifer’s _TWIN??? _And how could the Big Guy let this happen?

Maze watched them for a moment, and a resolute expression crept onto her face. “Yeah, you guys have fun coddling the murder angel, I’m gonna check on the storage unit you said his wings are in. Someone needs to make sure no one gets ahold of them.” Maze remarked darkly, turning to leave. “And don’t expect me to come back until _he’s _gone!” She pointed harshly at the sleeping Michael.

“Of course, Maze, you do whatever you need to. Thanks for showing restraint. I really appreciate it.” Linda said, smiling weakly at her best friend. Maze’s features softened.

“Yeah, whatever.” She said dismissively, and with that, she left.

The house was silent for a few minutes before Dan snapped everyone back to reality by speaking. “I guess we ought to let Chloe know.” He remarked, pulling out his phone. 

***

**Special Note:** The title for this chapter came from the following song: [Far From Heaven by Dream Theater](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5HcLGEacaWU)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember the missing scene between chapters 6 and 7? Now you know... more or less what happened, told from the POV of someone suffering from blood loss - disoriented and confused, but hey.
> 
> And he finally got that hug everyone was saying he needed. ❤️
> 
> Ella = human shield. 🤣
> 
> I hope you liked it, I put a lot into this chapter.


	12. God is on Craigslist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Linda talks to Chloe, Elohim decides to head to America, Robert Fisher (remember him?) finds a perplexing craigslist post.

Charlie wasn’t going to sleep. Having been woken up during Maze’s rather abrupt - and exceptionally loud - arrival, he had gotten it into his head that he no longer required sleep. Too tired to deal with it, Linda had just given him her phone, and he was happily messing with the message center… sending Maze a string of emoji’s. Linda smirked. Maze hated those. Served her right, though. She could still hear the echoes of their argument bouncing around in her head.

_“Maze! Please, he isn’t threatening anyone, there is no need for this!” Linda said, keeping her hands on her friend’s shoulders in an attempt to calm her fury. Dan had barred the door with his body at this point, arms out and feet spread, a determined set to his jaw, and a wild, panicked look in his eyes._

_“Get out of my way! I have to kill him! Let me through, before he rips that stupid religious nut to pieces for getting between us!” She snarled, trying to find a way to get by them without breaking them in the process._

Linda was under no illusions. They had only succeeded in containing Maze because she didn’t want to hurt them. Glancing at the cracks in the wall, she found herself wondering if it was better or worse that Amenadiel was not around. And on that subject, what was taking him so long. It had been _hours._ If this was Michael here, then… how hard could it be to find Lucifer? She was worried.

_Ding!_

Looking down at the phone in her son’s hands, she noticed a text from Chloe. Dan had tried to call her earlier, but it went straight to voicemail… which probably meant that the Detective was sleeping at the time. Good for her. But she was awake now, judging from the message. Glancing up the stairs where both Ella and Dan were still standing in silent vigil, she decided to leave them to it and took the phone from her son’s eager hands to read the message.

_“Michael???”_ Linda grinned. It was Chloe’s turn to freak out.

“Yep! Apparently, Lucifer’s twin.” she texted back.

“Ugh! Of course Lucifer never bothered to tell any of us that THE ARCHANGEL MICHAEL IS HIS TWIN!!! 😡😡😡😤 Has Amenadiel ever mentioned anything about this???”

“Nope. I don’t think Amen likes him very much.”

“He definitely doesn’t. According to Amenadiel, Michael is essentially a self-important prick.” Linda laughed. Pot calling the Kettle black? Linda could still remember what Amenadiel had been like when they first met. Maybe it was an angel thing.

“Self-important prick or not, he needs help. Maze is pissed, btw.”

“She tried to kill him, didn’t she?”

“You bet. But we talked her down. Are you still coming by?”

“Soon as I shower and eat something… and finish freaking out over here🤯😱😭… yes. See you soon.”

“See you soon.” Linda sighed and handed the phone back to her little angel. And he promptly started to send a lovely string of rainbow emoji’s her way. Good. Chloe deserved rainbows.   
  
***  
  
“...and get this, mate. The bloke’s place doesn’t even show up on satellite.” Mr. Dodson exclaimed proudly as he leaned forward, showing the pictures of the wooded hilly area to prove his point.

The Creator of the Universe had a sinking feeling upon hearing this. He glanced at the printouts. It was a vast wooded swath of land near Mt. Baker, from what He could see, and the arrow drawn on the page was pointing to what looked like nothing more than a bunch of trees. “So you’re telling me that the blade is in the private collection of a wealthy American who is so obsessed with being, as you say, _‘off grid’ _that his home doesn’t officially exist?” 

“You got it. The property has been in the family forever too, going all the way back to when Washington State was first settled.” The investigator replied grinning from ear to ear, preparing to recount how he had tracked the man down. Regaling the tale of his deductions was something the man took great pleasure in, and Elohim happily obliged, always interested. “It took some careful thinking on my part to find him. At first, I was having no luck at all, but then I remembered that broker you bought the other item from had a list of wealthy lunes who liked to collect _‘religious relics.’ _I figured it was worth a go, so I contacted him. He was surprisingly cooperative as soon as I dropped your name. I described what you were looking for, and as it happens, he immediately had an answer for me. Someone named Zeke Eldon. At first, I thought he was pulling my leg, because this bloke doesn’t even show up in any database. Anywhere. If it wasn’t for our connection, we would never have even known the bloody wanker existed. He’s like a phantom. The closest I got to proof of his existence was the document declaring that this swath of land was privately owned.”

Elohim sighed. It was times like this that He missed His divine sight. Everything about this reeked of celestial involvement. And He missed Mîchael, too. His son had always been gifted at navigating through these sticky situations with remarkable grace. He was the only one of His children He knew He could trust completely to make the_ right _decision. But if He was correct, and it was starting to look like He was, the situation had gotten so out of hand that not even His most strategically gifted angel could prevent himself from being compromised in some way. A chill ran down His spine. His angels were not always the best at making decisions for themselves. They were innocent… but also naive. Who knows how much trouble they had gotten themselves into without guidance? 

“And you’re sure the blade is there?” He asked, looking at the investigator solemnly.

“Well, that’s the thing. Usually, as you know, I get more to go off of, but this is all hearsay. If you want, I can go down there myself to investigate further and retrieve it...”

“No, I will do this myself.” He was not going to send this man away from his family. He could handle this on His own. “Before I do, however, tell me everything you can about this hearsay.”

“According to the broker, this Zeke chap sent a representative in his place to negotiate for the medallion. Naturally, during their negotiations, our guy asked the rep if his employer had anything else of religious significance that he might be willing to part with in trade. The rep said they had an old blade, but it was useless because it was stuck in its sheath - just like you said it would likely be – but apparently, when the rep called his boss to ask about it, the guy had said that ‘the Archangel Michael’s Sword’ was not for sale.”

So the person in question not only knew what it was, but he knew about the medallion as well. Interesting. “Thank you, my friend. That is all I needed to know. I will be wiring your payment over presently... and Dodson? In case I don’t see you again, it has been a pleasure.” He stated, standing to shake the other man’s hand.

The other man grew silent at that, an alarmed worried look on his face. “Is everything alight, Adisa? I mean, it sounds like...” The investigator schooled his expression and put his smile back on. “No, never mind. I don’t think I want to know. But likewise, mate. It’s been fun.” He stood up and took The Creator’s hand in a firm grip. Elohim smiled at the human reassuringly. He was a good man.

He turned and made his way to the door but as He reached for the handle, Mr. Dodson spoke again. “Oh, hey, um... the broker asked me to tell you something...” He looked confused as Elohim turned around by the doorway.

“Did he, now?”

“He ah... wanted me to tell you he is quitting the business. Said something about how when he was younger, he wanted to help people, so that’s what he’s going to do.” The investigator shrugged and shook his head. “Don’t know why he wanted me to tell you... but.”

In reply to that, the Lord laughed heartily. Oh, yes, He had told him to think about his life choices, hadn’t He? “Thank you for telling me.” He smiled warmly at the man in front of Him; a man who had no need to rethink his life. “Have a good day, friend.” And with that, He was out the door.

_Friend. _

It was a term He found Himself using more and more often during his time on Earth. It was nice to have friends. A wholly new experience for Him.

He was going to miss that when He returned from His vacation.

But first, He had to find Mîchael. He needed His son to unlock the seal for him. Once again, He found Himself wishing He could just pray to His child… but thanks to Raziel’s intervention, He knew it was unwise to even try… not when someone was listening in. 

God, Himself laughed at the irony of this. Usually He and Santa Clause were the ones accused of listening in on conversations and spying on everyone. Contrary to popular belief, He had always respected people’s privacy. Just because He _could_ see everything didn’t mean He _chose_ to do so. It didn’t mean He _wanted_ to. 

As He made His way to the waiting car service, He retrieved His phone. He grinned at the quaint piece of technology. First thing He was going to do when He got back was update the Silver City. His children could benefit from these. Easier communication, exchange of information, planners, personal diaries, and, as He unlocked His phone to see the paused cat video on the screen, He had to add that it provided endless entertainment, too. 

But cat videos could wait. He proceeded to input the details Mr. Dodson had given Him into His phone’s planner app. Then, as He got in the car and directed His driver to take Him back to His hotel, He started to make plans. He was going to need a local as a guide to the region, a hotel, and most likely, hiking gear as well. The Presence started to browse the web for solutions. As He scrolled through various search options on the internet, something caught His eye. _Hmm, what is this craigslist?_

“United States, here I come,” he grinned, and he started to type out an ad while merrily singing to the tune of what was currently His favorite song. _“What if God was one of us...”_  
  
***  
  
_“Hello, my name is Elohim Adisa, Creator of the Universe. I’m looking for a guide who knows their way around Lynden, Washington. I’m on a quest which will take me into the forests near Mt. Baker to reclaim a lost sword. I need gear, a guide, and transportation. I will provide lodging and sustenance. If you are interested in helping me on this expedition, I will see you properly compensated.” _

Robert Fisher stared at the craigslist post like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. A picture was included, and it showed the region near his favorite river spot, where he had found the mysterious younger man the night before. 

_‘What’s down there, son?’ _

_‘They are.’ _

The memory came back to him in painful, vivid detail. He could still see the frightened eyes. He could hear the struggling gasps. _They _were somewhere near... The arrow pointed to a location that would line up perfectly with the direction the man had indicated in his panic.

_South._

Fisher had gone back, trying to see what he could find. He had gone down the road, and he saw how it curved to turn away. There hadn’t been anything suspicious that way, and he had a growing suspicion that whoever _they_ were, they had hidden themselves well… somewhere in the woods… right about where this Elohim now wanted to go.

“It _could _just be a coincidence, right? I mean, this whole post is just so _crazy.” _His neighbor said, as she looked over his shoulder at her phone, which she had given him. “But if it isn’t...” She trailed off. “What do you make of it, Rob?”

His gut said this Elohim nut-job was somehow connected. His brain told him to report it, but his heart reminded him that the only officer who had seemed to take him seriously was the lady detective from LA. “I think I should tell the LAPD about this, just in case there’s a connection.” He decided with finality. “You’re good with the internet, right? Can you look them up for me?”

His neighbor, a chubby blonde girl in her mid-twenties smiled happily. “No prob.” Taking her phone back, she tapped key words onto her phone’s screen and started scrolling, humming tunelessly as she went.

“Thank you, Amanda. You’re a good neighbor. I try to keep up with all the tech you youngsters have, but the internet still confuses me.” 

“Yeah, well after what you told me... _man,_ my heart is, like,_ totally breaking _for the poor guy. Who would even do that? If my boyfriend’s endless hours online can actually help someone... I mean, yeah, when he showed it to me, he thought it was a gag, but I was all like, _‘no way!’ _And I had to show you.” Mr. Fisher smiled politely at her, as she prattled away. “Ooookaaaay, got it.” She handed her phone back to him.

“Much obliged.” He thanked her as he took the phone and copied the number into his list of contacts. After a few polite words of parting, he finished collecting his mail and headed back in. Setting his parcels down, and picking up his half empty cup of evening coffee - which was unfortunately cold now, he sat in his easy chair and dialed the number.

A woman named Pam answered. The same woman he had spoken to before.

And as luck would have it, she was happy to hear from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah. Chloe’s and Elohim’s investigations seem to point to the same spot. Interesting...
> 
> And for those of you wondering about our favorite Devil, you get to see him next chapter. I promise.


	13. Turning Tables

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer!!!
> 
> Uh-oh, bad guys are on to our friends... (dramatic music starts playing)

“If he’s really the one the Detective was looking for, that can only mean he was betrayed by one of our siblings.” Lucifer commented as the two archangels stepped out of the dreadful room. Lucifer’s mind was going a mile a minute, piecing things together.  
  
“How do you figure?” Amenadiel asked, eyebrows pinched in confusion. “With this room _here,_ it’s far more likely this was done by demons while no one was watching Hell.”  
  
Astaroth, who had been standing by, waiting for them to come back out, snorted derisively at that. “Your time on Earth has done nothing for your brains, it seems.” She rolled her eyes, and Lucifer grinned in agreement. Amenadiel glared at them both. “We call him ‘The Destroyer’ down here. Do you know why that is?” She sneered.  
  
“Because he has a talent for destroying demons.” Amenadiel stated. “All the more reason to assume this was their doing.”  
  
Lucifer shook his head. Amenadiel was so dense sometimes. “No. My demons can be daft - violent, bloodthirsty, and chaotic. Masochistic, even. But not suicidal. If any of them were involved, they had help from someone powerful enough to give them the upper hand.” He turned to Astaroth, her beautiful mouth pinched into an expression of disapproval.  
  
“It’s safe to assume that some were, but it was not something I was aware of. Judging from the devastation of this region, I would say that those involved were also betrayed.” She theorized.  
  
Lucifer looked around at the landscape. It had once been a - well not _thriving,_ this was still Hell after all - but it was a bustling demon’s playground. This was where souls were sent when their guilt didn’t match their crimes – namely because they didn’t feel guilty _enough..._ which made it a popular destination, as the demons were allowed to play with their prey a good bit more than was typical in other areas. But the Hell loops had been destroyed, and so had the demons. Astaroth’s theory was a good one, but not the only possible explanation.  
  
“I still don’t think...” Amenadiel started to say.  
  
“Why is he not in the Silver City then?” Lucifer challenged, raising an eyebrow.  
  
“What?” His brother was being particularly dense this time.  
  
“Let me ask you a question,” Lucifer drawled out. “If you were captured and tortured, then you managed to escape, but you were gravely injured, what’s the first thing you would do?” He looked at him pointedly.  
  
“I would pray to one of our siblings for hel...” The Devil almost laughed at his brother when the lightbulb finally came on. “But... he’s still on Earth… so he didn’t... did he?” Lucifer motioned for him to keep going. “Because... he didn’t think he could trust them?” Amenadiel’s eyes grew wide.  
  
“Brilliant deduction, my dear Watson.” Lucifer quipped, “A bit slow on the uptake, but...”  
  
“I get it, okay? No need to make a production about it.” His older brother huffed.  
  
Lucifer couldn’t help but grin. He had really missed teasing Amenadiel. It felt good. But then the smile dropped again. He was worried about what this might mean. Another civil war in Heaven, perhaps? That could only mean trouble for the humans... for the Detective. What good was his sacrifice to keep them all safe if the rest of his family bungled everything up? Lucifer sighed.  
  
He was still furious over what had happened between them, but...  
  
“As much as I hate to admit it, even as mad as I am with him, I will _not_ tolerate insubordination. I’ll see what I can learn from down here.” He decided. Amenadiel smiled, a little too happy about his decision.  
  
“Thank you, Luci!”  
  
“The demons won’t like you helping him.” Astaroth warned. He had been doing a lot of things the demons wouldn’t like lately, it seemed. “First, you leave for far too long, then when you come back, you decide to set a condemned soul free... now this?” She crossed her arms and glared.  
  
Lucifer grinned wickedly at her. “One of the perks of being in charge, my dear. I get to do what I want.” He let his eyes flash red in warning for a moment. But of course, Amenadiel had latched onto the wrong part of what she said, and chose that moment to interject.  
  
“You released someone from Hell? Brother, why?” He looked worried. Of course he did. He was probably remembering the incident with Able.  
  
“Never fear, it’s nothing to worry over. I’m not setting homicidal murderers free to reign terror. She was an innocent. Misplaced guilt. I just pointed the way up for her.” He explained. Astaroth grumbled in response. “Sorry, darling, care to share with the class?”   
  
“No, my king.” She glowered, obediently falling silent.  
  
Amenadiel stared at him. “But, I thought that was impossible. Once a soul reaches Hell, their guilt, misplaced or otherwise, keeps them contained. Send them away and they return, _wanting_ punishment. How?”  
  
Lucifer smiled, remembering the incident. “Well, I asked myself: WWTDD?” He replied. Amenadiel blinked at him, uncomprehending. Sighing, he elaborated, “What would the Detective do? I found _proof_ of the woman’s innocence, and showed it to her.” He didn’t add that he did it because he wanted to be the kind of King Chloe would be proud of him for being - that he had done it to feel less like a monster, because he knew the injustice would break the Detective’s heart. Amenadiel seemed to understand though, and he gave the Lord of Hell one of those bright, open, genuine smiles.  
  
“That’s amazing, Luci! Do you think you could do this for others?”  
  
Astaroth snorted, not fond of the idea. “You’re asking for another uprising, if you do. Destroy that room first. I will not see them locking you up in there just because some human got you acting all noble all of a sudden. It was designed to contain an archangel. It’s a threat to you.” She advised.   
  
Lucifer considered her suggestion, but shrugged it aside. “Not yet. We may need it.” He grinned menacingly as he wondered which of his siblings he would be hosting.  
  
“But...” Amenadiel and Astaroth said as one. They seemed to be on the same page here.   
  
“Don’t get your knickers in a twist. I’m not intending on going in there again.” He huffed.  
  
Amenadiel sighed, then he unfurled his wings. “When I get up topside, I’ll track him down, then, perhaps he can tell us what’s going on. Would you like me to keep you informed? Perhaps I could pray...”  
  
Lucifer chuckled. “Don’t bother, I closed that door a long time ago. Not a fan of the things those bloody wankers who pray to the Devil ask for. Your message would be lost. If you wish to keep me informed, you’re just going to have to visit again.” Amenadiel looked sad, for some silly reason.  
  
“What if I prayed to S...?”  
  
The Devil’s eyes flashed with hellfire as he grabbed his brother roughly by the collar of his shirt, pulling him close. “Don’t you dare! I am NOT one of HIS angels, and NO ONE calls me that anymore!” He snarled.  
  
Amenadiel looked him directly in the eyes, taking his anger with a calm patient reserve.   
  
“Very well, brother.” Amenadiel brought his hand up to disentangle himself from Lucifer’s vice grip. “I will see you again soon.” And with that, he left.  
  
Lucifer stood there next to Astaroth, head reeling, and emotions flip flopping. After a few minutes to refocus, he turned to his demon. “First things first. Let’s see if we can find any survivors who can tell us what’s happened here.” He ordered, motioning around to the ruins.  
  
“Yes, my king.”  
  
***  
  
Zerachiel had considered keeping the child close - with him in the pocket universe, but he had already been keeping Mîchael there, and Heaven was growing suspicious. They were starting to wonder where their Commander was, starting to realize that perhaps he was not - as they had been led to believe - on a mission for Father. That something was amiss.   
  
The Prince of Heaven was the key, but the girl was the future, and since no one knew to look for her yet, masking her divinity and hiding her on Earth seemed the better plan. So, with the little one in his arms, he ventured onto the Earthly plane, leaving his fortress in the care of his loyal followers.  
  
“Her name is Elaine. You will raise her as your own until I come to reclaimed her.” He COMMANDED of the human parents he had selected for her.  
  
Mr. and Mrs. Belloc had agreed happily. Of course they did. Their will was his to do with as he saw fit. They were his tools now, and he knew they would do right by her. After he dropped off the infant angel, he made his way back to find his home in chaos.  
  
Mîchael had escaped.  
  
“Who helped him?” He demanded.   
  
“No one, boss.” Came the nervous reply.  
  
He laughed, delighted in a way. He knew his prisoner was strong, but it was still impressive to see what he was capable of – even in his current state. He had been gone for less than a day, but that was all it took for his captive to break away. Yes, he was proud of his escaped brother, but he was also furious with his foolish subordinates for having gotten careless.   
  
He had the two who were assigned to watch him locked up for questioning later, then he sent his most loyal and reliable soldiers to bring him back. Sandalphon was even sent out to lead them, but with strict instructions not to engage. Then he left as well, to see if he could track him down. Having spent the most time with him over the last several years, he hoped he was familiar enough with his divine signature that he could use that to find him again.  
  
He was surprised when he felt his light flare up for a brief moment. It meant his brother’s wings had somehow grown back. Mîchael must have kept that secret to himself. Clever. Unfortunately, the burst was very brief and he wasn’t able to pinpoint an exact location, but he wasn’t too worried. It was only a matter of time before he would use them again. All he had to do was wait for another opportunity.  
  
When it came next, he could sense him flying south, but then, just as he was getting close, the divine light dimmed, making it more difficult to follow. He knew what that meant. His warriors had caught him and removed the troublesome appendages. But when his soldiers did not report back, he started to suspect something had gone awry, so he continued the hunt.  
  
He followed the faint light of the wings with some difficulty, and felt dismay when at last he tracked them down to a storage rental facility. _Store-It Self Storage_ was a respectable enough place, for a human establishment, he supposed. He followed the light to a white building with grey metal garage style doors. He easily ripped his way in, and there they were.  
  
Mîchael’s wings were in terrible shape, and his heart broke a little to see them like that. He didn’t wish for his brother to suffer any more than was absolutely necessary. This looked excessive. Walking in, he bent to pick one up. A feather came lose, a beautiful golden and pearl patterned feather with a silver tip. It caught the light as it fluttered down and shimmered for a moment.  
  
Sighing, he pulled out his phone. Not long ago, he had taken to using human technology to communicate. Praying worked with some, but this was more effective. After a couple rings, Sandalphon picked up.  
  
“Boss?” His crisp, melodic voice rang out on the other end.  
  
“You were tracking Mîchael. What happened?”  
  
“He surprised my warriors with his wings and left. Three of mine pursued, but as they have not checked in, I assume they were defeated. This is The Defender of Heaven we’re hunting. Even injured and vulnerable, combat is what he does best.” This was true. He was going to have to take this hunt more seriously. “It would have gone differently had you allowed me to intercept…” His right hand started to point out.  
  
“NO!” He roared into the phone. “When I said you will never lay a hand on him again, I meant it. You lost the right after that stunt you pulled.” He growled. He almost crushed the phone in his hand in his fury, choosing instead to punch a hole through the wall of the storage unit.  
  
“It got results.” His brother pointed out coldly.  
  
A low rumbling snarl escaped his lips. “We almost lost him because of your actions. Remember, we need his light. Without it, our cause is dead. The only reason you are still alive is because of how valuable you are to me, brother. You would do well to remember that fact.”   
  
This warning was met with silence on the other line. He could almost hear his general sweating nervously. Finally, he spoke again. “Understood. What is it you would have me do, then?”  
  
“I am going to text you an address. It’s on Del Rey Ave in Los Angeles. A storage rental place. When you get here, find out who rented the unit number I’m texting you. Then find the owner. I suspect whoever put Mîchael’s wings in here will lead us to him.” He instructed. Pulling the phone away from his ear, he texted the required information. 

He could already feel the rage bleeding away. Sandalphon had screwed up, but he was useful. Still, as dependable as he was, he was only loyal to the cause. Not to him. And the incident with Mîchael had proven it. But, he needed his youngest brother, so he let him off easy. Finished with the text, he brought his phone back to his ear, glad he had not crushed it.  
  
He had to hand it to the humans, their technology was wonderful. He loved it. Great for communicating, digging up information, and endless hours of entertainment. He was especially fond of pun huskies. When he took control of the Silver City, he was going to update it. They had been relying on prayers alone for too long. This was better.  
  
“Shall I gather more soldiers?” His general asked on the other end.  
  
“I will send them to meet you. Remember your orders. If you find him, notify me. I will bring him home personally. Good hunting, brother.” He said, concluding the call.  
  
After he pocketed his phone, he tenderly gathered up the wings, making sure to collect each feather, and he set off to take them home.  
  
The wings were his. It would not do to leave them in the hands of free humans. Humans who were free were prone to do terrible things. It would not do for them to have Mîchael either, for that matter. They were unworthy. His brother was _his,_ and he did _not_ like to share.  
  
***  
  
Amenadiel touched down in the living room, wings filling the space. He was relieved to finally be out of Hell. It felt like he had been down there forever, and he was eager to see Linda and Charlie again. Tiredly, he brushed ash off his clothes and breathed in deeply, cherishing the familiar - brimstone free - scents of home. At the sound of footsteps from the stairs, he turned to see Linda, with Charlie in her arms, playing on her phone again. She looked relieved when she saw him, and he found himself feeling bad for having worried her.  
  
“I’m sorry it took so long, Linda. Luci wasn’t where I expected him to be, and it can take a while to navigate the endless labyrinths down there. But I found him.” Linda sighed, then glancing up the stairs, the worried expression returned. Amenadiel followed her gaze, and realized that he could hear Ella and Dan talking up there. Quickly, he tucked his wings away, smiling sheepishly. “Have I missed something?”  
  
“Michael is here.” Linda blurted. Amenadiel fell back a step, taken off guard. He hadn’t been gone _that_ long, had he…? “He’s hurt.” She said, glancing worriedly up the stairs again.  
  
“Hurt?” Amenadiel found himself echoing.  
  
“And he isn’t healing.”

***

_**Special Note:**_ Another Song Title! [Adele’s Turning Tables](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dx7sLNyIeQk)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer: I’m still mad so I’m gonna act all reluctant while I help.
> 
> Also Lucifer: My family really sucks, but at least Amenadiel is fun to tease.
> 
> Those familiar with the comics will notice some parallels here. Yes, I am taking a lot of creative license here... but the show and the comics are super different anyway, so... yeah. 
> 
> As always, I love comments feedback and predictions. ❤️


	14. Wings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maze tries to follow through on her plan to deal with Michael’s wings... it doesn’t go as planned.
> 
> Amenadiel has some explaining to do.
> 
> The bad guys don’t quite see eye to eye.

Maze was beyond furious. She wanted to _murder_ something… Lucifer was stuck in _Hell,_ and now his murderous traitor twin was here on Earth. It wasn’t _right._ Sure, he was hurt, but that didn’t change the facts.

Angels weren’t allowed to kill humans. It went against God’s wishes… but for whatever reason, _He_ deemed it appropriate to make Mîchael the one exception to that rule. Perhaps that was his reward for stabbing Lucifer in the back. Literally. Or maybe he was given free rein because of his obedience. Because he didn’t even hesitate to break his own _twin_ brother’s wings. 

Or to cast him out.

Maybe it was more practical than that. Maybe, as the Defender of Heaven, he had to be permitted to do whatever was necessary. Maybe, since Lucifer had refused to be ‘God’s Poison’ – to be His _hitman,_ essentially - God simply decided to have Mîchael pick up the slack left from his absentee twin. Whatever the reason, Mîchael was more dangerous to her humans – _and Charlie_ \- than the rest of the Heavenly Host combined.

Sure, Uriel had planned on killing Decker, but he was only able to do that by exploiting a loop hole. Mîchael could be – _and has been_ – responsible for devastation on a scale that no demon could ever hope to match. Maze tried to tell them - to _warn_ them. But would they listen to her?

No!

“He’s an _angel!”_ Maze declared in an over-the-top sing-song voice meant to mock the others for their stupidity, lips sliding from a savage sneer into a mock sad-face. “He’s the good guy! Look at him, he’s _hurt!_ Poor, injured _baby!_ We need to take _care_ of him! Here, let me fluff the murder angel’s pillow…” She knew she was ranting, but she didn’t care.

Getting off her bike, she approached the storage facility Dan had told her about while they were fighting over Mîchael. Pulling out the slip of paper she had taken to write down the details he provided, she made her way down the corridor, which was now cast in deep shadows as the sun grew lower in the sky. It was nearly sunset now, and the white walls had a warm hue to them in the evening light.

“…Be _nice,_ Maze! He’s just a sweet, innocent, gentle, little…” Her ranting trailed off as she reached the number she was looking for.

The door had been ripped open from the outside. 

Already knowing what to expect, she stepped in. Sure enough, the wings were gone. Not even one feather remained. The only sign that they had been there at all was a little blood left behind. She would have to clean that up, she figured.

“Great.” Maze fumed. “This day just keeps getting better and better, doesn’t it?” She huffed at the wall. The wall with a hole punched in it.

Interesting. 

Walking up to it to inspect more closely, she saw that it was made of thick cement and metal… it almost looked like… Maze started to laugh mirthlessly at the wall. It looked like the Prince of Heaven wasn’t all that popular in the Silver City, either. Only an archangel could do quite this much damage. Which meant that he had probably been betrayed. Served him right. But her laughing was cut short when she heard footsteps outside.

Growing quiet, she slunk into the shadows and waited.

“I get that, but why do _we_ have to clean up the blood?” She heard a perturbed nasal voice demanding. The footsteps stopped right outside. _Of course,_ Maze thought. Oh, well, she _was_ in the mood to murder something, so hey, no problem. She waited, hands wrapping silently around the handles of her blades.

“Because the boss doesn’t think it’s a good idea to leave divinity laying around for any human to just…” The second voice trailed off, replaced by the sound of intent sniffing.

“What?” The first voice wondered.

“Someone’s here. Someone who smells of Hell.” The second remarked coldly. “A demon.” The voice sounded – surprisingly – delighted.

“Ooh, goody, we get to kill another demon?” Maze felt insulted. How dare they? But, whatever. No point staying hidden any longer. The element of surprise had clearly been ruined.

“No,” She said emerging from the shadows, grinning like a lion hunting an antelope. “A demon gets to kill _you.”_ She promised as she leapt through the doorway at the… _Zombies???_

The two creatures in front of her – both of them, a weird patchwork of healthy and rotten flesh – let out surprised yelps as they fell back, barely avoiding her attack. Really? How pathetic were they? The idiots already knew she was near. They should have expected this. Maze could tell they weren’t demons, but last time she checked, zombies weren’t real. Whatever. If they were already dead, she was just going to make them doubly dead.

“Shit, it’s Mazikeen of the Lilim.” The bigger of the two declared.

“Lucifer’s right hand demon?” The smaller one, with the nasal voice cried out in alarm, starting to look around nervously. Maze noticed this one had a broken nose with a wicked slash across his face. It looked like a fresh wound. That explained the nasal tone.

Maze’s grin spread. “Lucifer isn’t the one you need to worry about right now.” She purred as she charged them. She went for the larger of the two first, and though he had a few good moves in him, it was pretty easy to take him out. Then she turned toward the smaller one, already running down the corridor. Too easy.

But just as she was about to charge, she heard the sound of angel wings, and whirling around, she saw him. He was tall, even compared to Lucifer. Probably around 6 foot 7 inches. He had long straight white hair, piercing black eyes, and a long Egyptian profile with light brown skin. His lean form was dressed in dark earthy colors, which matched his wings rather well, as they were also a nondescript plain brown. Maybe a bit of russet red near the base. Certainly not the most striking celestial. Then he spoke.

“You are Lucifer’s?” The angel’s voice was eerily hypnotic, rich and melodious, it reverberated through to her bones.

Maze sneered at him, completely unimpressed. She had no clue which of Lucifer’s deplorable siblings he was, but she _hated_ angels as a general rule. “What’s it to you?” She demanded, blades raised and ready to strike.

“It would not do to deprive the Devil of his favored warrior.” He decided impassively. “Walk away, and you will not be harmed.” He instructed.

“Yeah, right.” Maze snapped. “I’m not leaving without answers.” And with that, she charged at him. Not surprisingly, he avoided her, and brought his bladed wing into her side. Gasping, she fell back, cursing her carelessness. Terrific. Now she could say she had been attacked by two of the feathered bastards in one day.

“Stand down.” He tried again.

“Sure, thing. Right after I rip your heart out.” She growled, grinning viciously.

“Then you leave me no choice.”  
  
***  
  
“You have some explaining to do.” Linda said pointedly to Amenadiel, who was now kneeling by the bed, looking at his injured brother with a bewildered expression. “Why haven’t you or Lucifer ever mentioned… _this?”_ She demanded, gesturing toward Michael.

Amenadiel glanced at her, and offered an embarrassed smile. “I... um… well… The Silver City doesn’t like mortals knowing that the Defender of Heaven… is… well…”

“The nearly identical twin brother to the Devil?” Ella offered, laughing. “Yeah, that would probably confuse a few people. But imagine the evil twin jokes people could be making!” Amenadiel looked at her, a wide-eyed, almost awe-struck expression on his face. Linda had to agree with him there. Ella was handling the whole ‘angels, God, and the Devil are real’ thing amazingly well. It was almost as if she was used to her life not making sense.

“I guess I never bothered to mention it, more out of habit than anything else.” He admitted.

“So… but… the story of good versus evil?” Dan blurted from his corner of the room. His voice was an octave higher than normal.

“Luci isn’t evil. He _punishes_ evil. But the story of defying Father being evil _is_ popular… not just here on Earth, but in the Silver City, too.” Amenadiel sighed. “I even bought into it, myself.” He confessed reluctantly.

Everyone fell silent for a minute. Then Linda badgered him again. “And Lucifer? Is there a reason _he_ never mentioned it?” She knew Lucifer wasn’t one to keep secrets, least of all when the secrets were what Heaven wanted. So there had to be more to it.

Everyone looked at Amenadiel as he grew somber. “Luci… he has been working really hard at pretending he doesn’t even have a twin anymore. Hasn’t mentioned his name once since his fall.”

“That is so sad.” Ella said, sniffing and misty eyed, as she glanced at the sleeping archangel. Linda nodded in agreement. 

Amenadiel turned to look at him as well. Then he brought his hand to his shoulder and gently nudged him. “Mîkā’el?” He whispered softly. Linda noticed that he used the same old pronunciation Maze had used, and wondered if she should refer to him that way as well. Michael’s eyes fluttered open half way, and a soft groan slipped out as he weakly pulled back from the contact. “It’s okay, brother. I can take you home, now.” Amenadiel offered in a soft voice.

Michael’s eyes widened a bit at that, and he pulled back from his brother more abruptly, almost as if he were afraid. “No.” He croaked out feebly and shook his head. His eyes roamed the room for a moment, unfocused and confused before his lids fell closed again.

“No?” Amenadiel asked, clearly surprised. “But you need help… you need Father to fix you…”

The injured angel seemed to flinch at that, eyes scrunching shut more tightly, breath picking up and body starting to tremble again. “Father’s… gone...” He rasped out weakly. 

Startled, Amenadiel looked at the humans gathered around. God was gone? What did that mean? As they stared at one another disbelieving and worried, Michael slipped from wakeful and frightened to sleeping and distressed as if the two were the same thing.

“You should probably let him rest.” Ella suggested, taking Amenadiel’s hand sympathetically, stopping him from reaching out to nudge his brother again. “I mean… he needs to heal, right?”

“That’s just it, he should have healed by now.” Amenadiel replied, a bewildered - almost fearful - quality to his voice. “At one point, Luci was chopping his wings off every other day. Said it was like a whack-a-mole back there. Michael’s wounds should have vanished by now.” He confessed. Dan and Ella’s eyes bugged out a bit at that. Linda wondered if it was the whack-a-mole comment or the lack of healing which freaked them out more. Self-mutilation and a broken archangel... Linda felt sorry for them. This was, by no means, a gentle introduction to the realities they had to live with now.

“Is there something you can do?” Dan asked, starting to look even more panicked than before.

“I… no… I don’t’ think there is. I lost my divine gifts shortly after I decided to remain on Earth.” Amenadiel explained.

“So… what do we do?” Ella asked.

“Give him a bit more time… I… his healing may have been compromised because his divine light is so depleted. I… hope… maybe it’s just taking longer than normal?” Amenadiel offered, uncertain and worried. But somehow, Linda knew waiting wasn’t going to work. He was not healing, and time wasn’t going to change that.

***

Zerachiel sat on the Earthly side of his fortress, staring at the wings he had mounted and placed behind glass all those years ago. He was particularly proud of how he had lit the case, accentuating the way the wings shimmered in the light. They had always looked best when Mîchael and his Lightbringer twin were side by side, and while this lighting was a far cry from anything Lucifer’s wings were capable of, it still looked nice. 

Sighing sadly, he glanced at this second, entirely unexpected set of wings, laying crumpled at his feet. In comparison, they were distressingly underwhelming. He had intended to try to salvage them, but after a more careful investigation, he realized that was not possible. But… they still held a great deal of his light... and that was useful.

Picking up a lose feather, he started to twirl it as he considered his options. He remembered cutting off the first pair, wondering what Uriel would think... 

_‘Dun duh-duh-duuuh duuuh!’_

Wagner’s _‘Flight of the Valkyries’_ started to play from within his pocket, derailing his train of thought. Pulling his phone out, he was not surprised to see it was Sandalphon. 

“Speak.” He said tiredly, as he answered the call.

“Lucifer’s demon, Mazikeen attacked us today.” Came the silky voice of his general. He noticed it sounded slightly strained. The demon must have gotten a good blow in.

“Do you think the Devil is aware of the situation?” He worried, tensing at the idea. Lucifer was something of a wildcard. Once, he had been the figurehead of the rebellion. But that had been a very long time ago. Even Uriel had been unable to predict their volatile brother’s actions.

“Not likely. As I understand it, he had left her behind... but… The fact that she is somehow involved makes me wonder…” 

He felt his patience slipping. He was _not_ in the mood for Sandalphon to go on another tirade about bringing Lucifer in on their plans. “_No,_ we are _not_ getting him involved.” He stated, without waiting for the former angel of music to start. “You know perfectly well that Father watches his every move.” He exasperated, annoyed at having to make the same speech he had been repeating for years… eons. Again.

“But Father has been missing for eight Earth years, surely...”

“Enough!” He snapped. “Just because we can’t see him doesn’t mean he isn’t still watching.” He was met by silence after this, and he knew Sandalphon was essentially pouting on the other line. “Did you have anything else to report?” Zerachiel demanded, already knowing the answer.

“No.”

“Then get back to work.” He growled, hanging up. Honestly. Sometimes it felt like he was dealing with a child. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maze: I hate the murder angel! Yay, I get to stab something! Damn, another angel.🤬
> 
> Amenadiel: I don’t understand anything!😩  
Dan: 😱. Ella: 🥺. Linda: 😬.
> 
> Meanwhile, Sandalphon is fanboying over Lucifer.😍👉😈


	15. The Archangel and the Monsters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luci investigates in Hell and struggles with unwanted feelings
> 
> What is Raziel’s game?

Lucifer still dreamed of him.   
  
When he was awake, he had gotten very good at not thinking about him - at never mentioning his name - at pretending he just didn’t exist. He had gotten good at avoiding the unwanted feeling of _betrayal,_ and the voice in his head that kept reminding him that it was _he,_ who had been the betrayer, not the other way around. He had gotten good at ignoring the fear he felt at the mere idea of crossing paths with him again.  
  
But when he slept... His brother still came. 

Not every time, not by a long stretch, but he was never gone for long – except when he was on Earth, with the Detective. His brother didn’t haunt his dreams while he was preoccupied with chasing after and worrying over Chloe. With her, it was like the past didn’t matter anymore. But as soon as he returned to Hell, the familiar dreams returned as well.  
  
Sometimes the dreams were sweet - beautiful even. Bittersweet memories he didn’t want to believe he still longed to relive. Memories of a time when he hadn’t a care in all creation, when he thought his family would always love him. Other times he had dreams of reconciliation, of having his twin back, not like they were, but better - less naive, and stronger. Impossible, unfulfillable desires, leaving him when he woke with a cruel _wanting._  
  
He preferred the nightmares.  
  
When he woke from those, he felt relief. Relief that the memory of being cast out and rejected by the person who mattered most to him was in the past. Relief after escaping from a dream of his brother taunting him as his face melted away to reveal him as the monster he really was.   
  
Sometimes his twin was vicious. _“Do you still think it is better to rule in Hell, Samael? What a fitting name. You truly are poison.”_ He would sneer at him in these dreams, moments before attacking. And he would laugh as Lucifer suffered.  
  
Other times, he was accusing, sad and confused. _“You said we would never be alone. You promised. But look at what you’ve done. Why do you hate me, brother? Why couldn’t you just accept things as they were?”_ In these dreams, there were tears in his eyes, and this hurt more than the beatings ever could.  
  
The worst ones were the ones when he was just there – silent – expressionless... almost lifeless as he watched him, as if waiting for him to do something. But Lucifer could never figure out what it was he needed to do to break the spell. To fix things. To bring his brother back to him.  
  
Twice after The Fall, his twin tried to come see him. The first time, he sent his demon hoards to chase him off. He made out like it was a show of force, but the truth was that he was afraid. Shamefully afraid. The second time was after a measly couple hundred years, almost no time at all in Heaven. This time he chose to send a message with his hoards, so he sent Astaroth ahead of them.  
  
Lucifer wasn’t there. He was hiding in his rooms – with Maze at his side, guarding him as he cowered, pretending to be indifferent. But his demons told him all about the encounter. The beautiful Inanna walked up to face off with the infamous Prince of Heaven. The Sword of God stood by himself, looking at the army before him impassively as he met with the Devil’s emissary.  
  
“The King of Hell has a message for you.” She said, as instructed. _“Don’t ever come back.”_ The same words his twin said to him the moment before he tossed him out. The same words that had pierced his once tender heart to the core.  
  
Supposedly, she stood her ground, glaring as he looked at her. The demons insisted that he looked angry, but then, without another word, he spread his wings and left.   
  
He honored Lucifer’s wishes. He never tried to come back again.  
  
Lucifer wasn’t sure if he was glad of this or not. Part of him knew his brother would do as he was asked, but part of him wished he would try again. As much as he feared what would happen, he had come to learn that not knowing could be worse. Why had he come? What had he wanted? But he told himself it didn’t matter, because that person was not his twin anymore. 

If he had cared, he wouldn’t have waited so long. If there was any love left in his twin, he would’ve answered Lucifer’s pleas when he first landed in Hell. But he was nothing but Father’s Warrior, now. His brother was dead to him. Thinking of it this way made it easier.  
  
But, now... after seeing that room - that Hell Loop - he couldn’t pretend anymore. His brother was alive, and very much capable of feeling pain. And long buried feelings were being dredged up in the Devil. Feelings he desperately wished would go away, feelings he couldn’t ignore.  
  
So he was going to do this one thing. Then he could put his lost twin out of his mind again and move on with his life. Simple.  
  
“From what I gathered, there was only one to have survived the devastation. He is a pathetic shadow shifter, with no real strength or power. Goes by the name of Shnallz.” Astaroth informed. “I had him brought to your chambers, as I suspect you wish to keep this interrogation under wraps.”  
  
Lucifer grinned knowingly at his demon general. “Well done. You presumed correctly, darling.” He could see that she was pleased, even as he made his way to his spire.   
  
The rooms he had in Hell were both more desolate and more decedent than the rooms in his Penthouse on Earth. More space, grand open design, stunning architecture, and plenty of luxuries pilfered from upstairs. Fine artworks, priceless artifacts, jewels, books, elegant bed chambers... but there was a decided lack of homeliness to it all. The place did not feel welcoming. It was more imposing... foreboding. 

And the food and drink were awful.  
  
But the cushions were comfortable. Of course they were. Seeing as they came from Earth, they were a rare thing in Hell. The kind of luxuries only the Devil could obtain. To the demons it was a show of power and superiority. To Lucifer, it was a desperate grab for something that resembled happiness.  
  
He found Shnallz chained up to a post in his library. The tiny little shadow shifter was trembling before he even arrived. Of course he was. No doubt, he assumed he was to be punished for withholding information.  
  
“Care for a drink?” Lucifer queried as he helped himself to a distressingly disastrous proximity to wine. Why did he torture himself? He knew it would be dismal.  
  
“The King wishes for this one to drink?” the creature asked in a petrified voice.  
  
“Honestly, I don’t care either way.” He sat down in a fashionable chair from the baroque period of France, eyeing the tiny wisp of a creature, and he found himself wondering how he alone - of all demons - had survived the carnage. He was no more than three feet tall, comprised mostly of smoke and shadow, only held in a solid form by the force of the spells on the chains holding him. Almost intangible. “What the King wishes for is information.”  
  
“Then the mighty fallen archangel will torture and destroy this one?” Shnallz returned to trembling, pulling away from Lucifer’s proximity as best he could.  
  
The Devil rolled his eyes and set down his glass. Leaning forward he looked into the ember spark eyes of his terrified subject. “I think not. You survived - no doubt by avoiding detection. I find that to be a useful talent, Shnallz.”  
  
The demon stopped shaking and seemed to brighten up. Literally. “This one can serve the King! This one can be very sneaky!” He declared proudly.  
  
Lucifer smiled, genuinely amused by how hopeful and eager the beasty was to serve him. “I can see that.” Then he put on a show of thinking things over, even though he had already made up his mind. “If I remove your chains, you will not run away.”  
  
“No, Great One, to run is to be captured again by the Pretty One’s nasty snake. This one will stay and earn the King’s favor.” He promised.  
  
The Devil laughed. He made his way over and undid the clasps. The shadowy entity shivered and shook, phasing between solid and ethereal as he did, then he smiled up at the one who set him free. “Tell me what I need to know, and you already have my favor.”  
  
“This one will do as the King asks. This one was afraid. This one did not mean to keep secrets. This one will tell the King all, and the King will keep this one safe?”  
  
Lucifer grinned somewhat maliciously at him. “As long as you continue to be useful, yes.”  
  
“This one will be useful. This one will tell of the monsters who destroyed everyone. This one will tell of the strange room. This one will tell the King about the archangel.”  
  
At the end of his tale, Lucifer sent the shadowy little demon off to keep an eye and ear out for any word of unrest. If anyone was plotting behind his back, that slippery little nobody would be able to slip in, gather details, and slip out with nary a concern from the schemers, to report back with his findings. The shadow shifter was happy to be of service – a little too eager, if Lucifer was to be honest, but hey, good help and all that...  
  
What he had said about what had happened while he was away however, was very concerning. If Shnallz was to be believed, monsters came from beyond Hell’s borders and immediately set to work desecrating the region. Their aim was to destroy all potential witnesses to what they were doing, it seemed. They missed the little shifter because he disappeared into the shadows and remained hidden. In that way, terrified and invisible, he was able to see what had happened.  
  
There were two angels with the monsters. As soon as the area was cleared, they set to work building the room. After the room’s completion, nothing happened for a while. They were all but gone. Guards were left to watch the room and patrol the conquered territory, but otherwise, there was no activity for a long time, until one day the leader, with several of his strange minions, returned. And they had someone new with them.  
  
Shnallz could easily make out who it was from where he was hiding. Those golden wings were unmistakable. When they brought him, he was bound and unconscious. The captured archangel was taken into the room, which was then locked. The structure was heavily guarded at all times while their prisoner was within, never less than ten monsters stood sentry. Then, after a time, they took him away again, and the area was abandoned.  
  
Lucifer felt an unexpected burning rage building up within. Someone had betrayed his twin. And they tortured him. The Devil’s eyes were already aflame as he put his hands together in prayer.  
  
_Amenadiel, brother. I have information for you. Make your way to my throne as soon as you can. I will be waiting._  
  
With that, Lucifer unfurled his wings and made for his throne. He knew time passed more slowly on Earth, and it would likely be a wait before his older brother could come, but he was fine with waiting. He was fine with sitting on his throne and glaring out into the bleak expanse of Hell, even if it took days. The Devil was in no mood for company.   
  
He was in a mood for punishing. He was in a mood for blood.  
  
***  
  
_Interesting,_ Raziel thought. It had been a long time since Lucifer prayed to Amenadiel. For a while, it had been a constant thing, and she suspected he did it mostly to annoy his older brother... it had annoyed her, for certain. But then, for whatever reason, it stopped. Raziel had no clue why, but it was around this time that the first of Father’s angels had stopped making trips between realms. No more visits to the Silver City, and no trips to Hell, either.  
  
And then the two, as unlikely as it seemed, somehow ended up getting along. Raziel had assumed that this meant the Devil was never going back to Hell. But then, he did anyway. If there was one thing one could count on Lucifer for, it was that he was always changing things, always doing anything but what was expected of him. Always messing with the patterns. Which is why Uriel should never have gone to deal with him personally.  
  
Raziel felt that familiar rage starting to bubble up again. If only Lucifer had known. Uriel was trying to fix things. And Lucifer stood to benefit... but no! The selfish impulsive murderer decided that killing a brother with the blade of death was a good idea. And now Uriel wasn’t just banished or disembodied... he was gone. Forever.  
  
It was almost enough for her to abandon the plan. She wanted him to pay... but he was still important, so she would have to find another way to get back at him. Later. In the meantime, she had to consider the current situation. He said he had information for Amenadiel.  
  
Those idiots never tore down the room they had built. Had the Lord of Hell come upon it? There was no doubt to the Angel of Secrets that he would be able to figure out who it was for, and if so... Uriel always insisted that the twins did not hate one another as much as everyone thought. Was Lucifer trying to help Mîchael?  
  
If so...  
  
No, she didn’t need to tell Zerachiel.   
  
Not yet.  
  
It was best if she didn’t, in fact. Perhaps things were not as hopeless as she initially feared. Mîchael had escaped on his own, when Lucifer wasn’t even on Earth, but he seemed to be heading to LA... to where he thought he would find his twin. And now Lucifer seemed to be helping. __

_ _Perhaps Uriel’s patterns weren’t so broken after all. _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We all love seeing Luci in crisis.🥺 Posting early this time because I’m getting excited, and I didn’t want to (couldn’t) wait. Rough draft of full fic is 4/5 complete! 😀
> 
> We are starting to get to the heart of this story. Warning: the next couple chapters will be intense. 😈


	16. Wrong Side of Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of backstory for Michael. Very philosophical and angsty
> 
> Amenadiel talks to Chloe, who naturally knows what to do.

_“Where’s Mîchael?” Amenadiel asked Gabriel, as he landed.  
  
“On a mission to Earth. If you need him, he’ll be back soon. He always is.”  
  
“No, I was just reporting back to inform him that Lucifer has been returned to Hell. But I suppose you can tell him.” He was happy to avoid the interaction, to be honest. But it seemed that luck wasn’t on his side, because in that moment, he heard the sound of wings behind him, and turning around, he saw him touch down, golden wings folding away gracefully.  
  
Mîchael looked at Amenadiel indifferently. “I assume you’ve come to report that you’ve returned Samael to his post?”  
  
Amenadiel nodded, annoyed. He didn’t even let him make his own report. It was insulting.  
  
“You can go now.” He stated, and without waiting for him to leave, he put his hands together in prayer. “Azrael.” He summoned.  
  
Amenadiel considered leaving, but he found himself stuck as his anger mounted. Just because Father chose him, just because the humans called him a ‘Saint’… He wasn’t any better than the rest of them, and his utter indifference to all of them was simply not called for. As he was building up a temper and preparing to make a speech, Azrael landed.  
  
“Mîchael?” She asked, looking annoyed about having been called away from her rather time consuming task.  
  
“I need you to remember a name.” He replied, looking suddenly very serious. Amenadiel stilled, all the anger fading away. Mîchael rarely looked anything but uncaring. Azrael seemed to take the same hint, because her expression shifted into one of concern. “Oppenheimer. Robert J. Oppenheimer.” He informed.  
  
“Okay?” Azrael ventured. “Why do I need to know his name?”  
  
“When his life eventually comes to an end, he will be burdened by insurmountable guilt. It will be misplaced. You will not let his soul go to Hell, bring him here.” He explained gravely.  
  
Amenadiel felt a twinge of worry and Azrael’s face twisted from concern to accusation. “What did you do?”  
  
Mîchael didn’t offer any explanation. But the answer came in time.  
  
  
It was August 6, 1945. Amenadiel landed in Hiroshima Japan. They were far enough away from the blast that the destruction was especially gruesome. The victims hadn’t died instantly here. They had endured long enough to feel and understand what was happening to them. Amenadiel had seen his fair share of horrors, but nothing had come close to this.  
  
He felt an unfamiliar urge to be sick as he took in the sight, frozen in time, and a part of him was screaming to look away. To avoid seeing what was happening... what Father had permitted. _

_Hell looked tame in comparison.  
  
Mîchael stood with his back to him, wings out, and still as a statue. Amenadiel approached him, trepidation sinking in. “Did you… cause this?” He choked out.  
  
No response.  
  
Amenadiel shook his head, disbelieving. “Why? Does Father know?”  
  
“Of course he knows.” Came the soft reply. “Did you notify the others?”  
  
God’s first born shook his head. Father knew… this was part of The Plan. But he couldn’t figure out how that could be. These humans were not wicked. They didn’t deserve to die this way. “I see… Yes... They’re on their way…” He answered his brother, then swallowing, he searched for clarification. “If Father knows, then it must be His will… I guess this is… it must be right…”  
  
Mîchael laughed coldly at that, cutting him off as he turned to glare at Amenadiel. His eyes were glowing an electric blue, and he looked beyond furious. Amenadiel took an instinctive step back, suddenly terrified of the brother - the stranger - in front of him. “Nothing about this is right!” He snarled harshly. Then all the heat drained from his eyes and his emotionless mask seemed to slide back into place. “It was... necessary.”  
  
Amenadiel’s mind was reeling. “How could this be necessary?” He felt unexpected tears come to his eyes. He had never, not once, shed a tear for humanity, but the magnitude of what had happened here was too much. These poor creatures. They did not deserve this. It was wrong._

_No! ‘Wrong’ wasn’t the right word. Amenadiel would not question Father. This was as it should be. This was His will._

_He just didn’t understand.  
  
Sighing, Mîchael turned away again. “Believe me brother, all the other possible futures were far worse.” Understanding, at last. This one incident was orchestrated to prevent something far worse. It was for the Greater Good. Amenadiel thought that was the end of it, but then his brother surprised him by continuing to speak.  
  
“Humans have been escalating their conflicts since the day Cain murdered Abel. Now they have guns, flying machines, chemical warfare, missiles… and… We have to escalate our responses every time they push further with what they call ‘progress’ to keep them from self-destructing… This is the price of freewill.” He choked on that last line a bit as he glanced back at his eldest brother. “But… at what point will it no longer be worth it to interfere?” The mask cracked again, and for a brief moment, the Prince of Heaven looked haunted... tormented, even. “Was it worth it this time, brother?”  
  
Amenadiel had nothing to say. He had no answer to this. Looking around, he wanted to say ‘no,’ it definitely wasn’t, but if the alternatives were worse… He didn’t know. He was saved from trying to answer when he heard the sound of his siblings landing, and as he turned around, he could see them arriving in droves.  
  
The Sword of Heaven straightened to address them, his empty, uncaring expression firmly back in place. “The devastation of this new weapon is immense. Too many lives are being ended far too quickly. You will all put your usual tasks on hold to assist Azrael until this conflict has resolved. Furthermore, because of the nature of the madness that has consumed this realm, many countless mortals will be feeling guilt that they should not. As such, you will bring every soul you collect during this time to the Silver City, so that I may determine where they belong myself, before they can trap themselves in Hell. I will not see any more good souls torment themselves for the actions of a greedy few. That is all.”  
  
Amenadiel stared. He was putting too much on himself. This was too much.“Are you sure this is what you want?” He asked.  
  
Mîchael didn’t answer. But Amenadiel noticed a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth.  
  
It was in that moment that Azrael arrived. There was fury in her eyes, and her small body trembled with rage. “What have you done?” She demanded, storming up to Mîchael. He looked away in reply, and their sister started pummeling him, hitting him with desperate devastated fists over and over, screaming at him as tears streamed down her face. Tears of enmity and despair. Azrael loved the humans. This was more than she could take. Their brother just stood there and let her hit him until she was spent, as the others watched in stunned silence.  
  
When at last she sank to her knees, crying, he walked away, offering only a simple statement of fact. “You will have help from our siblings in dealing with this. All souls are to be brought to the Silver City. Understood?”  
  
Azrael glared up at him from where she knelt, exhausted from her outburst, but she nodded. “Fine, like this makes what you did somehow okay.” She seethed.  
  
As she spoke, Mîchael knelt by the dead forms of two human children, an older brother, clinging to his little sister. If Amenadiel was to guess from their size, they were about three and seven. In a surprisingly tender manner, Mîchael scooped up their souls and held them close to his heart, then turning back to look at his soldiers, he simply said, “You all know what to do.” Then he flew off, taking his precious cargo with him.  
  
Azrael watched him leave, a look of disbelief on her face. “He wouldn’t have done this if it wasn’t the only way.” She whispered weakly. “I shouldn’t have yelled at him.” Then standing up, she turned to the others. “You heard him, let’s get to work.”_  
  
  
Amenadiel was startled from his dozing as he felt another presence approaching. He had been sitting in a chair next to the bed, watching over his brother, hoping that in time, he would heal, and then they could talk, but a sinking dread was starting to creep in.  
  
“He’s not healing, is he?” Chloe asked, looking at him with the strangest expression as she entered the room. “Is it because of whatever happened to him?”  
  
“I think… I could be wrong… this has only happened once before… with Duma. But I think he’s losing his...” Amenadiel paused. The word he was about to use wasn’t English... but there was no direct translation. Light? Soul? Grace? Energy? Divinity? Yes, that’s the word. “He’s bleeding divinity.”  
  
Chloe tilted her head in thought. “I suppose you’re going to tell me what that means?” She offered, taking a seat next to him in the other chair that had been brought in.  
  
Sighing, he smiled sadly at her. “Duma used to be gifted with Father’s sight… he saw reality in the same way He does. All of the past, all possible futures, anywhere, anytime… he could witness it as if he was there. For a while, he managed just fine… until... something happened. He lost himself to one of his visions, and his... _divinity_ started leeching off of him. As a result, the entire area was inundated with his visions, and any who got too close would be overcome by them. Father was the only one who could approach him, and when He did, He put a stop to it. And He took the divine sight from him so he wouldn’t be plagued by it anymore.” Amenadiel felt a tear forming at the memory and he looked at Chloe to see how she was taking it.  
  
“He wasn’t the same afterward, was he?” She guessed, voice laced with empathy.  
  
“No. He hasn’t spoken since. Now he is the Angel of Silence. The keeper of knowledge in the Silver City. I’m pretty sure he remembers everything, but he…” Amenadiel shook his head.  
  
Chloe took his hand. Then looking over to the bed, she sighed. “What’s Michael’s gift?”  
  
Amenadiel glanced at the now very much alive bonsai tree he had tried - and failed - to nourish, sitting by the window, then beyond at the flowering lawn outside - dandelions peppering vibrant green. “Life, and creation. He has other talents, but that is his primary gift. He is the only one besides Mom and Father who can create and give life. So his divinity is making things around here grow.” Chloe nodded in understanding.

The two sat in silence after this, both lost in thought, and Amenadiel’s mind drifted back to the conversation he had with Luci when he realized what was happening.

_“Tell me, when’s the last time you saw him in person?”_ Lucifer’s voice had been razor sharp... accusing, as if he already knew the answer. Amenadiel hadn’t seen Mîchael since the day Lucifer tricked him into letting him remain on Earth.

_“I made a deal with him. I had to. I’m sorry.” Amenadiel didn’t want to admit this to anyone, especially Mîchael, but of course, it seemed he already knew._

_“Then it appears you will finally have a chance to prove yourself. Hell needs to be managed. As long as Samael remains on Earth, you will tend to his realm.” That was all he had to say about it._  
  
Amenadiel sighed. It had been _years._ He should’ve known something was wrong. Next to him, Chloe got up and moved over to the bed to look at the sleeping, wounded archangel, a sorrowful expression on her face. “He looks slightly younger that Lucifer… somehow,” she observed, sitting down on the bed in the same spot Ella had been in until she had finally been convinced to take a break, if only to eat and freshen up.  
  
Amenadiel tilted his head as he looked more closely, only to realize that she was right. It wasn’t much, but the differences were there... How had he missed that? “I imagine life in Hell might have something to do with that. Time passes more quickly down there… by a lot… and, well, it isn’t exactly easy living. I guess it’s self-actualization, Luci probably _feels_ older.” He shrugged, mildly surprised by the revelation. Dear Father, no wonder Luci wanted to retire.  
  
Chloe shook her head and wiped a tear from her eye. “Honestly, I’m glad it isn’t Lucifer… I don’t know what I would do if… but,” She faltered, taking a deep breath. “Is it possible to run out of divinity? What happens when… if he does?”   
  
“Our divine energy naturally replenishes, but if we were to spend it before we can do that… well, that energy is essentially his _soul._ I imagine he would be lost - gone forever.” This was Amenadiel’s greatest concern at the moment, and the statement, as much as if seemed to upset Chloe, didn’t seem to surprise her.   
  
He wished he knew what to do... As he struggled with his uncertainty, he heard a voice in his head. He focused inward, vaguely aware of Chloe putting her hand on Mîchael’s forehead, her concerned expression growing into alarm.  
  
It was Lucifer.  
  
_‘Amenadiel, brother. I have information for you. Make your way to my throne as soon as you can. I will be waiting.’_  
  
“He has a fever.” Chloe gasped, then seeing the look on his face, she snapped her fingers in front of him. “Hey, Earth to Amenadiel?” He blinked at her. “You okay?”  
  
Amenadiel focused back on his surroundings. “Sorry, I just got a message from Luci. He… uh... was praying to me.”  
  
This got her attention. “He can do that? How is he? What did he say?” She exclaimed, lighting up and taking his shoulders to look at him like a starving animal begging for food.  
  
Amenadiel smiled, in spite of the dire situation. Her devotion was truly moving. “Well enough. Yes, he can, and he has information for me, requested that I come see him.” He answered.  
  
Chloe looked thoughtfully at him for a minute, before straightening up, as if struck by an idea. “How close were they… before everything happened?” She motioned at Mîchael as she spoke.  
  
“Inseparable… but that was before... “  
  
“Is there anything Lucifer could do to help?” She asked urgently.  
  
“Yes… but… I don’t think…” Amenadiel was about to remind her of how much these two did _not_ get along, but the Detective cut him off with a firm statement.  
  
“If they were that close… he’ll help. I’m sure of it. He was able to forgive me, even after I screwed everything up with Father Kinley… If you tell him how bad it is, he’ll fix it.” She stated firmly. Amenadiel wasn’t so sure… but he knew that when it came to the Devil, no one understood him better than the miracle that was Chloe Decker. Except maybe Linda, who would probably agree with her.  
  
“You might be right. I could ask him to give me some of his feathers.” The more he thought about it, the more he had to agree with Chloe, the brilliant human was right. This could fix everything. Standing up, he smiled at her. “Let Linda know I’m going back to talk to Lucifer, would you? I shouldn’t be gone long.” And with that, he stepped into the hallway, made his way to the stairs where he had more space, and unfurling his wings, he descended.  
  
He found Lucifer on his throne, glaring with Hellfire eyes into the dreary expanse of his Kingdom. Upon seeing his arrival, the fire died away, and he took flight to land at the base of the throne, where Amenadiel touched down at his side. He didn’t even wait for Amenadiel to speak before he started talking. Voice clipped and urgent.  
  
“The whole bloody thing was orchestrated by a couple of our siblings.” He spat vehemently. “They killed off the demons in the area, and did Dad knows what to the souls there. Didn’t want any witnesses. They built the room. Then the knob heads brought him and had him locked up in there for a spell before taking him away again!” He was pacing from the moment he landed, clearly worked up. Amenadiel stared at him, surprised to see how angry he was. It seemed Chloe really _did_ know how he would respond to all of this. He hesitated. He knew what he had to say, but… Why was this so hard?  
  
“Luci…” Amenadiel started tentatively. His furious brother stopped pacing to look at him, almost desperately. The angel hesitated again, wishing that he had better news to deliver. “He’s… with Linda...” Amenadiel faltered as Lucifer looked expectantly at him. “In really bad shape… his _light_ is fading,” he choked, swallowing the lump forming in his throat. “And he isn’t healing.” Lucifer looked at him, seemingly confused... and _unsteady._ Taking a breath, he willed himself to finish. “He’s dying, brother. We’re losing him.” He informed gravely.  
  
Lucifer pulled back as if he had been struck, horror taking hold of his features for the briefest moment. Then understanding. And finally, resolve.  
  
“Right, then.” He decided, spreading his wings and launching himself up and beyond the borders of Hell. No ‘good bye,’ no ‘I’ll be right back,’ no ‘mind keeping an eye on things down here while I go clean up your mess.’ He just left, leaving Amenadiel in stunned silence.

  
  
_**Special Note:**_ Song Title again! ['Wrong Side of Heaven' by Five Finger Death Punch](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o_l4Ab5FRwM)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now you have an idea of why Maze and Amenadiel are nervous about Michael. 🤯  
Poor guy. It’s been rough for him. 🥺  
Azreal = 😡😭
> 
> Amenadiel was ordered to manage Hell. Not to send Lucifer back... 🤔  
Remember Duma, he’s gonna be important. 🤭  
Yay for Chloe being smart! 🧐  
Finally, Luci to the rescue! 😃 😈 😃
> 
> As always, comments, thoughts, and predictions keep me going. Love you all for reading.
> 
> Special note: The song link, ‘Wrong Side of Heaven’ is a music video. It’s not a Lucifer video, but some of the themes line up with this story very closely, and the message is important. While we all love our angst here, it’s no fun when the struggles are real. 🥺


	17. Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Walking into the kitchen wearing a blue apron and a demon blade in hand, the author looks at the onions with a scrutinizing eye. One is selected, and the others watch in terror as the papery exterior is removed and the blade is brought down upon the chosen sacrifice. As the essence of onion fills the air, the author starts to cry, while laughing manically.
> 
> “I do this in the name of art!” The author cackles... sniffing tearfully.

Lucifer touched down in a cloud of ash outside Dr. Linda’s home, folding his wings away before anyone could see. The setting sun was warm and bright and welcoming in its golden haze, and he couldn’t help but pause for a moment, overwhelmed by the rightness of it all. The sight was so welcome and the feel so pleasant, he had to linger for a moment in spite of the urgency. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, the smell of grass and sun-baked cement greeted him instead of the smells of blood and brimstone. After breathing in deeply, drinking in the feeling like a dying man in a desert taking in water, he opened his eyes. 

It was painful how good it felt to be on Earth, knowing he wasn’t staying. Knowing he would have to leave again as soon as he did what he had come to do. Feeling a tightness in his chest, he decided the best thing to do would be to just fix his brother and skip back down to Hell as quickly as possible before he had to face any more hard reminders of why he missed it here. He wasn’t sure he could bare the sight of… he was getting distracted. He had a job to do.  
  
With a wavering breath, and an unsteady hand, he pushed open the door and marched in. The Living room was unexpectedly full, but Lucifer only had eyes for Dr. Linda... who was holding his nephew. How big he had gotten… Making a very conscious effort to drown out everything else, he locked eyes with the good doctor.  
  
“Lucifer!” She exclaimed, a look of surprised disbelief on her face.  
  
“Where is he?” He demanded curtly.  
  
Linda pointed up the stairs, and it looked like she might have had more to say, but he didn’t stick around to hear any of it. Every second spent here longer than necessary was torture. He didn’t want to be reminded of everything he was giving up, he didn’t want to see how much everything had changed. He didn’t want to feel that cruel _longing_ he had finally gotten under control. He needed blinders on, so he wouldn’t _see_ what he was missing so desperately. It hurt too much.  
  
He practically ran up the stairs, and pushed open the door to the guest room. His heart was running away with him like a race horse, and there was a roaring in his ears… and…  
  
There he was.

Mîchael.  
  
A part of Lucifer was surprised to see that he was actually there. He hadn’t seen his twin since…  
  
He couldn’t breathe.  
  
Oh, Dad! He couldn’t breathe, and he had tears in his eyes, and his chest hurt so much the pain was crawling up into his head, and his heart ached, and the roaring in his ears was growing louder. No, he scolded himself. Not now. Now was not the time for this. His brother needed help. He could worry about his ridiculous _feelings_ later. After he was back - nice and cozy in Hell, and away from everything that hurt so much.   
  
After a moment of standing there, trying not to lose it, he stepped in, an ardent longing he had forgotten he had - and another feeling he couldn’t quite place - pulling him toward his brother as if by gravity. Terror mingled with... Lucifer pushed the pesky _feelings_ aside to ruminate on later.  
  
Mîchael lay curled up on his side, bandaged and tucked in. His face was drawn and scrunched up in pain, and his body was rigid and far too still. Sitting down next to him, Lucifer couldn’t help but reach out and brush a stray curl from his twin’s forehead, just as he had done countless times in the past. At his touch, Mîchael stirred faintly, eyes trying and failing to open, and a soft whimper escaped his lips. His brother’s head was burning up and his skin was clammy.  
  
No.  
  
No, no, no, this was _wrong._ This wasn’t supposed to happen, this should never have happened.  
  
The same confounding sensation of blinding rage he had felt before began to build up again. Lucifer found himself clenching and unclenching his fist as Hell fire ignited in his eyes. Oh, the things he was going to do to whoever was responsible for this. The endless torture they would endure. He was going to pluck their feathers, pull out their entrails, feed them to the crows, bury them in a pit filled with scarabs, he was going to… No. His brother didn’t need the Devil right now, he would think about divine retribution later. Focusing, he let the fire in his eyes die down. Lucifer was vaguely aware of several sets of footsteps following him up and stopping a short distance behind him.  
  
It seemed he had an audience, but he didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was Mîchael. His Mī. Lucifer took in his twin’s condition gravely. The immediately obvious wound on the head and the busted lip and bruised cheek were frustrating, but of little concern. Hell, he had gotten beaten up like that just scuffling with Maze or Amenadiel on more than one occasion. Lifting away the blanket and checking under his shirt for injuries he saw the nasty wound in his side, noticeable through the bandages, and the torn flesh on his back, covered by drying blood soaked gauze and wrappings where his _wings_ should have been, causing him to choke back a sob.  
  
Here he had thought he didn’t care. Mîchael was dead to him, so what did it matter? It mattered. It mattered a great deal. It mattered that Mîchael had been brutalized. It mattered that his beautiful golden wings had been taken from him. It mattered that he had been hurt so badly and for so long that he wasn’t healing properly.   
  
He should have been healing.  
  
The simple fact that he was not spoke volumes. This was most likely the work of Angelic Self-Actualization again. If he had been hurt badly enough that he felt vulnerable... Mîchael was strong - always had been able to endure a great deal of grief without losing his poise and focus. But now… 

Lucifer’s thoughts were reeling. How long? How long had he had to endure before he found a way to break free?  
  
Only to give up now?  
  
Lucifer took his brother in his arms, pulling him in to a protective and fierce embrace. Somewhere in a dark corner of his mind, his heart was breaking all over again, remembering everything that had happened between them. His muscles were a live wire and he found breathing difficult, but still, he held on, desperate in a way.  
  
His twin stirred again at the change of position, and this time is eyes opened weakly, to stare half lidded at the brother holding him. Mîchael tried to lift a hand up to meet him, but it only made it a couple inches off the bed before it fell at his side again. Limp.  
  
“S… sa… am...?” His voice cracked. Lucifer snorted in spite of himself. Of course, his stubborn brother would still be calling him _that._  
  
Mîchael’s eyes fell closed again, even as tears formed and slipped out of them. His breathing was weak and faltering.  
  
“No, no, no, you stubborn featherhead, don’t you dare do this to me now.” Lucifer begged as he took his brother’s hand, the one that had tried to reach up to him, and he unfurled his wings. He heard a gasp from behind along with someone cursing. He didn’t care. They didn’t matter now. He had to fix this, so that later he could yell at him properly. He had to fix this so he could tell him off... he had to fix this so he wouldn’t lose him for good.  
  
He could feel his brother’s gift effecting the area, and it reminded him of the time his mojo went haywire at the masquerade... but Mîchael’s light felt faint, like there was almost nothing left to bleed away. Lucifer didn’t know what would happen if it all slipped away, but Amenadiel’s words seemed far too accurate. They were losing him. If this continued, his soul might vanish. Like Uriel’s. Destroyed and gone forever.  
  
Frantically, and unwilling to see what would happen, Lucifer yanked a handful of feathers from each wing, ignoring the pain. Then he placed the feathers on his brother’s chest and stuffed more into the bandages, covering every wound he could find, just to be sure, then he willed them to work. Wrapping his wings around them both, he willed the light to come fourth and restore him with every fiber of his soul.  
  
Moments later, a blazing burning light radiated outward, filling the room, and beyond with divine brilliance. He heard people crying out in alarm. Oh, right. There were humans here. He hoped he hadn’t accidentally blinded a friend or family member.  
  
Just as suddenly as it had come about, the light faded and dissipated. Lucifer was still holding his brother, wings folded in around them. Nervously, he checked his condition to see – thankfully – it was much improved. His wounds were gone. His temperature was back to normal, and his breathing and heart were stronger, and far steadier.  
  
“Woah.” He heard Miss Lopez breath from behind him. Miss Lopez was here? Oops, guess the cat was out of the proverbial bag now. He stored that information away for later however, because in that moment, his brother’s eyes fluttered open.  
  
Mîchael’s eyes were a very specific shade of blue. He had never seen their like on anyone else. They were the color of the sky during that twenty minutes of time after sundown and before twilight. Lucifer had missed the sight of them without even knowing it.  
  
“Sammy?” He breathed out softly, a confused look furrowing his brow. Lucifer was about to lecture him. To tell him he was not Samael anymore… but there was something in the look he gave him, something to the tears that sat at the edge of his blue eyes, something in the crack of his voice. He couldn’t bring himself to correct him.  
  
“You’re okay now.” He said gently, starting to lower his brother back onto the bed. But then, suddenly, his hand reached up, trembling, to grip onto Lucifer’s forearm, and his eyes looked wild and panicked.  
  
Lucifer should have known better.  
  
That feeling… the one he had a hard time placing. It was hope. Hope that his twin would finally forgive him for being a monster, but of course, that was foolish. Of course he was frightened with the Big Bad Devil holding him while he was so defenseless. He felt a lump forming in his throat and the familiar feeling of self-loathing well up within him.   
  
Then his brother said something that was decidedly unexpected.  
  
“Don’t leave me.” His breathing hitched with desperation and his other arm reached up to snake around Lucifer’s side, holding on as if he were afraid of falling.  
  
“Mī…” Lucifer nearly wept, pulling his brother back into his arms. Mîchael relaxed almost immediately, eyes fluttering closed, and breathing steadied as the tension slipped away and he drifted off to sleep again. Lucifer couldn’t believe what had just happened. Surely, he was misinterpreting something somewhere.

But there he was, on Earth, holding the brother he had spent so long trying to convince himself to hate, and he wasn’t being shunned.  
  
Taking a steadying breath and tucking his wings away, he held his twin. For the first time since before his Fall, he held him with a tenderness he had reserved for a very select few, and for the first time since then, he felt… like maybe he didn’t have to _hate_ himself, like maybe he might be worthy of...  
  
“So does that mean you’re staying?” A beautiful intoxicatingly familiar voice asked from behind.  
  
Feeling like he was caught in a dream that was far better than he deserved, he turned his head to see…  
  
_Her._  
  
“Detective..?” He blurted out incredulously, then after blinking back the tears blurring his vision and looking more closely, “Chloe…” He breathed her name, a prayer into which he poured all his longing and aching.  
  
“Hey, you.” She said, smiling. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the second scene I wrote when I started this project. 
> 
> Next chapter is pure Deckerstar.
> 
> I know you all want to see the twins interacting... but Michael was beyond exhausted before the feather healing - which as some of you may remember from season one, apparently has the side effect of causing sleepiness.
> 
> It hasn’t even been a full 24 hours in the story yet, and he’s been through a lot. So it will be a few chapters. Lots of plot development coming in the meantime.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading. I love comments. I love reading your thoughts. ❤️


	18. Familiar Taste of Poison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deckerstar=Shameless fan service.  
It gets a little smutty... but no porn
> 
> Sorry-not-sorry. 
> 
> Not a lot of plot: the whole chapter is summed up in the notes

Lucifer!

He was there! And he was… well, he was unharmed, at least. Chloe stared as he burst in, ash fluttering in the air around him. She watched as he rushed up the stairs with single minded focus. He looked distressed. Really distressed.  
  
Chloe’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. For someone who had just come from Hell, he looked incredible. (Okay, he looked incredible, period.) She didn’t know what she would have expected. But he looked the same: dressed in an expensive suit, hair perfectly coiffed, and regal even in his desperation. Chloe wanted to run to him, but seeing him so unhinged, she caught herself.

She’d seen that look before. It was the expression he wore the day she accused him of looking like a homeless magician, when he challenged the sniper to shoot him, and again when he hadn’t been sleeping because she was dating Marcus – _Cain_... It was the way he looked when he was dealing with his Devil flare-ups… when he had been fixating on finding out why he hated himself so much.   
  
Chloe wondered at that. He never _did_ find an answer, she realized. Being the universe’s scapegoat was probably part of it, but as she understood it, he had been wearing that other face long before humanity started calling him the Devil. Which meant that it came from somewhere else, and she was pretty sure Michael had something to do with it.   
  
The way Lucifer looked at his twin when he reached the doorway to the guest room only confirmed her suspicion. She’d seen that look, too. As he went in, Chloe followed silently up the stairs and watched while he choked back a sob over Michael’s condition. Then, as he took his brother in his arms, she felt her own tears start to flow. Someone’s hand brushed hers. Chloe turned to see Ella, fresh from her shower, hair still wet and borrowing Linda’s bathrobe. She smiled at her and squeezed her hand understandingly.  
  
“No, no, no, you stubborn featherhead, don’t you dare do this to me now.” They heard Lucifer begging as he unfurled his beautiful wings. Ella gasped.  
  
“Mierda!” Dan cursed from off to the side, and glancing over, she saw that he and Linda had followed up as well. Dan looked terrified - frozen in place. Chloe sighed, feeling ashamed that it made her feel better to know she wasn’t the only one who lost it upon learning The Truth after all.  
  
Lucifer yanked a handful of feathers out of each wing, and a moment later, the room was filled with an all-encompassing light. It was more than blinding. The light was painful even as she closed her eyes and turned away, and she cried out in alarm. Then it was gone, leaving her dazed and seeing spots.  
  
“Woah!” Ella breathed, as the four of them were left blinking and rubbing their eyes. Together, they watched, feeling almost like they might be invading on a tremendously intimate moment as Michael asked his bother not to leave, and the Devil enfolded the Prince of Heaven protectively in his wings and held him, trembling as his brother drifted off.

When he tucked his wings away again, taking a steadying breath, Chloe couldn’t take it anymore. All this time, he was right there, within her reach, and she couldn’t stand by a moment more.  
  
Walking into the room, she let herself hope. “So does that mean you’re staying?” She asked, smiling as he turned with tearful eyes to gape disbelievingly at her. Chloe couldn’t help but stare back, drinking in the sight of him, his beautiful brown eyes locked onto hers.  
  
“Detective?” He blurted out incredulously. Then his expression changed, softening into something sweet - and gentle. It was _the look._ The one that made her melt every time she saw it, raw and real and vulnerable in a way that made her just want to take him in her arms and never stop kissing him. “Chloe,” He breathed out, her name a prayer on his lips.  
  
“Hey, you.” She said, smiling as she came closer to sit by his side and give him a half hug and kiss his cheek. He was still holding the sleeping archangel, which made it awkward, but she didn’t care.

As she drew in, she caught a faint whiff of brimstone, but mostly, he smelled of... _him._ Something more than any cologne, alcohol, or even Hell ash could hope to conquer. Chloe had missed the scent - like thunderstorms and open fields, and entirely _him._ She breathed in deeply, feeling it fill her up within, warming her heart.  
  
“I…” Lucifer coughed eyes darting between her and his brother in confusion. “Ah, I…” He blinked, looking helplessly at her, before he started to laugh. “This is not how I imagined our reunion would go.” He finally said, giving her a slightly dirty look, which only lasted for a moment before concern took over again.  
  
Chloe giggled - feeling giddy just to be near him as she leaned her head on his shoulder. “Yeah? In my dreams, you’re already naked by now.” She replied, which earned her an adorable, disbelieving expression, followed by a goofy smile, followed by that insufferable salacious grin she had missed so, _sooo_ much.  
  
“Oh, no, you‘re the one losing your clothes first, Detective.” He corrected. “By now, my face is already between your…”  
  
Ella coughed as she approached, and he turned to see her, suddenly looking weary. “Get a room, you two!” She joked, before her eyes fell on the sleeping Michael. “sooo, Is he going to be okay now, because I literally spent all day trying to keep him alive...”  
  
“You?” He balked, blinking in confusion. “But…”  
  
“Yeah, well, Linda kept saying that she wasn’t that kind of doctor, and I’m no stranger to gore.” She remarked, grinning.  
  
Chloe pulled back from her sideways embrace to look between the two. Lucifer stared like a dear in headlights.  
  
“And… you’re okay?” He asked, before looking away and nearly whispering. “With me?”   
  
“Awe, of course I am,” She elated, punctuating her declaration by wrapping her arms around him and his brother in a jubilant bear hug, causing him to yelp slightly and squirm before relaxing upon realizing it was not, in fact, an attack. The fact that Michael didn’t react illustrated how thoroughly zonked out he was at this point. “I mean, your Dad might be a total pendejo, but I’ve already been elbow deep in angel triage, so why not throw magic feathers into my new world view?” Ella answered as she let go and grinned at him. “I have, like a bajillion questions, by the way.” She stated, making a serious face which didn’t reach her eyes.  
  
Lucifer shook his head, and gaped hopefully at her. “Miss Lopez, you do realize that I’m the Devil, right?”  
  
“And not a method actor after all?” She laughed. And everyone - even Dan, who was still in the hallway, eyeing Lucifer like he was a rabid bear -laughed as well. After which, the room grew silent, until Chloe stood up, feeling out of place.

“So, I guess I should…”  
  
“Take that handsome Devil of yours and Get. It. On!” Ella declared firmly, waggling her eyebrows and swaying her hips suggestively.  
  
“What?” Dan exclaimed, “Ella, he’s…” He choked, “...the _actual_ Devil!” Chloe felt nothing but sympathy for him. KNOWING The Truth was terrifying.

But not, apparently, for Ella, who just snorted and shot Dan an amused smirk. “Yeah, and I’ve been shipping for these two adorkable idiots to figure out that they are meant to be together for _waaaaay_ too long, now.” Chloe blushed at that and Lucifer scoffed. But the insulted look faded as a more distraught expression fell into place.

“I can’t leave Mī.” Lucifer almost whimpered. Chloe found herself smiling fondly at that. _‘My?’_ Cute nickname.  
  
“Dude, I got this.” Ella announced sitting down and motioning for Lucifer to hand his twin over. “I literally prevented an angel-demon throw-down earlier. I think I can handle him sleeping off whatever the magic feathers did.” She stated triumphantly, arms extended expectantly. “I mean, it’s not like you’re ditching him. You’re just taking a minute to,” her voice dipped, “collect yourselves... together. Sans clothes.” She concluded, her smirk turning a bit dirty for a moment before she slipped into a far more stern expression. “Now, hand him over.” She commanded.  
  
“But...” Lucifer started, looking almost panicked. “You don’t understand, Miss Lopez. There is a very real chance the Detective might _actually_ have been made for me, and...”

“Ph-shaw.” Ella interrupted as she waved him off with a laugh, looking sidelong at Chloe with a raised eyebrow and pointing casually at the Devil. “Can you believe this guy? Leave it to Mr. Drama King over here to turn a real life soulmates scenario into something to freak out about, am I right?” Lucifer looked affronted, and Chloe couldn’t help but laugh and nod.

“Yeah,” She agreed. Then, after a moment of silence, she heaved a frustrated huff. “but...  
  
“I’m with Ella, here.” Linda stated firmly from the doorway. “You two both need this.” She was using her therapist voice, her expression accepting and encouraging. “And who knows when you’ll get another chance?”

Dan’s head whipped to look at Linda like she had proposed a suicide pact. “Linda! What are you...”

The therapist placed her hand reassuringly on her patient, “It’s okay, Daniel.” He fidgeted a bit as she turned her gaze to lock eyes with Chloe and Lucifer. “You can’t keep running from your feelings. It’s time.”  
  
Chloe was looking around at everyone gathered, fully aware that she was blushing, but also knowing that she wanted it. Oh, she wanted it so badly. “I know, I’m not running…” She faltered, glancing at Lucifer. He looked torn, like he _might_ run - taking his twin with him... or pounce her... or throw a fit. He settled on pouting and looking hopelessly trapped.

Chloe sighed. “Really, this isn’t necessary, we can wait to get caught up, I mean…” She trailed off. She was going to say they had plenty of time... but... What if this _was_ her only chance? The only chance she would get to show him how much he meant to her. She had been so lonely over the last year and a half, and she suspected the same was true for him. By all rights, she _should_ be all over him, kissing him and showering him with all the adoration he deserved... so why was she hesitating? Because the timing was awkward? So what? She let her boss screw her brains out at work, in the _supply closet_, no less... and that asshole was entirely undeserving! Awkward shouldn’t matter. But Michael...

Linda rolled her eyes, exasperated. “Chloe. Three days ago over tequilas, you said to me, and I quote: ‘If I ever see Lucifer again, first thing I’m gonna do is ride him till I pass out.’” She crossed her arms and looked at her challengingly.

Chloe’s cheeks filled with heat as she felt her already present blush deepen. “I was _Drunk!”_ She declared defensively, at the same instant Lucifer brightened up, looking positively delighted.

“Detective!” He gasped, looking mock surprised one instant and positively _ravenous_ the next as his eyes raked over her body, leaving her flustered and warm all at once.

Ella whistled scandalously. “That’s hot!” She fanned herself, even as Lucifer started to adjust himself, easing his brother off of him with equal parts desperation and tenderness, still torn between wanting Chloe and wanting to protect his long lost twin. Meanwhile, Dan in the hallway was retreating down the stairs, gagging a bit. Poor guy.

Chloe wanted to insist again that it wasn’t necessary, except she _wanted_ it - wanted _him..._ then suddenly, the transfer had been made and Lucifer was free. His eyes locked onto hers, hungry and longing, and in the next instant, his lips were meeting hers.  
  
“Get some, Decker!” Ella cheered.   
  
Linda clapped a single clap of triumph. “Finally,” she breathed emphatically.  
  
Pulling back, Chloe blinked, trying to control herself as she stared into his wide adoring eyes. “What happened to the ‘get a room’ part?” She tried to joke, feeling equal parts embarrassed and delighted as a thrill of desire coursed through her body. Lucifer grinned, and before she knew what was happening, she was in his arms and they were rushing out of there. Chloe wrapped her arms around him, overjoyed to finally... _finally_ have her Devil all to herself.  
  
They continued to kiss, each one more ardent and passionate and… _amazing_ than the one before. She didn’t know where Lucifer took her, she didn’t care. They were together. She knew it would break her heart all over again when he inevitably had to leave, but right now, Heaven couldn’t possibly feel as good as his kisses, his touch, and his skin against hers. Lost to everything but him, she kissed him harder, delighting in his gasps and moans of pleasure as they worshipped one another, pealing clothes off in a feverish rush of passion, giving in to the moment like they may never get another change.  
  
_Knowing_ they may never get another chance.

But then he stopped, pulling back to look at her, even as his jacket was discarded and his white dress shirt was more off than on.  
  
“Detective, are you sure this is what you want?” He asked, just as he had in her dreams… the ones where he had ‘love-handles.’ “I’m poison to everything I touch, and you…” She silenced him with a kiss, putting everything into it until he was breathless under her on Linda’s bed… oh, that’s where he took her.  
  
“I’ve already tried that line of thought, Lucifer.” She kissed him again, by his ear, and he hummed longingly. “I know you don’t think you’re good enough. But I just don’t agree with that. You are.” She started to nibble and kiss his neck, close to the pulse point, and she could feel him buck slightly in response to her hand sliding down his chiseled chest. 

“I’ve wasted years telling myself that we’re not supposed to be together. I tried really hard to convince myself I could be happy without you.” She kissed him again, this time behind the other ear, trailing kisses over his scruff and eventually onto his lips. He shivered a bit at the attention and opened his mouth to speak when she pulled back, but she placed her finger on his lips. Surprisingly, he remained quiet, a confused look furrowing his brow. 

“I’m not going to make that mistake again. Not this time. I don’t want to play it safe anymore. I know we might lose each other again... but I still want it.” She kissed him again and when she pulled back, he looked at her with a reverent, unbelieving longing that broke her heart and filled it up all at once.  
  
“You deserve roses and wine. You deserve to be swept off your feet with your favorite nineties jams, to be romanced like the miraculous woman you are. If we ever get another chance, I promise, I’ll do better.” He breathed as he proceeded to apply gentle kisses down her neck, dipping below her collar bone. Chloe moaned. He was too good at this.  
  
“I don’t desire any of that.” She gasped, and he stopped to take her words in. “I desire _you._ Always.” This was all the encouragement he needed.

***  
  
Still in the guest room, Ella and Linda found themselves exchanging looks and blushing at the sounds coming from the master bedroom. “Maybe I could’ve been more specific about what I meant by getting a room.” Ella apologized.  
  
Linda laughed nervously and blushed again at the sound of Chloe calling out Lucifer’s name. “Mmmm… Not gonna lie, this is bringing back memories.” She admitted sheepishly.  
  
“Riiiight.” Ella drawled, shaking her head before glancing at her sleeping charge. “You got headphones?” She wondered, snatching her phone from the pocket of the robe she was borrowing and scrolling through her music library.  
  
Linda laughed and stood up. “Of course, you need something to…”  
  
“For him.” Ella pointed at the brother who looked _waaaaay_ too much like Lucifer in that moment.  
  
“Oh.” Linda said, catching on. “I’ll be right back.” She chuckled, heading out of the room, only to run into Dan, who looked at her like a wild animal caught in a trap. He fumbled out a quick, and terribly awkward apology about needing to pick up Trixie from Penelope’s and scurried off. Linda watched as he rushed out, his face the color of a lobster.  
  
As the door closed with a frantic thud, the sound disturbed the sleeping Charlie who had been nestled snug in his crib… the same Charlie she had _just_ gotten to settle down. What a day, Linda thought, as she headed down to retrieve her son and grab a set of headphones.

What a day.

  
  


**_Special Note:_** song title! [Halestorm’s Familiar Taste of Poison](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lHZKPYQnsmc) ... Always thought this would make an awesome Deckerstar music video

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chloe *watches Luci heal Mi.* 💔😭  
Luci: 😍👉🕵️ but 💔👉😇  
Chloe 😍👉😈  
Ella: Get a room, you two! 😏  
Linda: I agree. Doctor’s orders! 😏  
Chloe: 😳  
Luci: What about Mī? 🥺  
Ella: Gimme! 🤩👉😇  
Chloe and Luci: 😘🥰  
Dan: 😱😱😱 *Runs away* 😱😱😱  
Luci: I’m not good enough. 🥺  
Chloe: Yes, you are. Shut up and kiss me! 😘  
Chloe and Luci: ❤️❤️❤️  
Linda and Ella: 😳😳  
Mi: 😴


	19. Restless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan makes an important decision. Amenadiel gets help.

Dan couldn’t sleep. He tried. He really did. But he couldn’t get his mind to shut down. Heaven was real. Which meant that Charlotte really was up there. Amenadiel had told him she was, and now he knew it was true. And it made him want to cry. To curl up and weep... because Heaven never felt further away. Because now he knew Hell was real too, and he was under no illusions about where he would end up. He was never going to see her again.  
  
He turned over in his bed to stare at the empty spot where she should be sleeping and he fought back a strangled sob. He was happy for her... really. And his sessions with Linda helped. He had finally gotten to a point where he could move on... 

Then Michael happened. 

Heaven was real... and something was wrong. When he closed his eyes he still saw bloody feathers and an angel laying prone on the floor, bleeding and broken. Michael. The Prince of Heaven. The defender.  
  
Dan knew the prayer. Even if he had stopped _really_ believing a long time ago, he was raised in a religious household. The prayer for the archangel Michael had been his favorite as a kid. Something about the idea of a warrior angel... and how it equated in his youthful mind to a celestial superhero. Dan found himself reciting it, as he tried to process his new understanding of how things were. 

“Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle. Be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the Devil; May God rebuke him, we humbly pray; And do thou, O Prince of the Heavenly Host, by the power of God, thrust into Hell Satan and all evil spirits who wander through the world for the ruin of souls.”  
  
But the Devil wasn’t threatening humanity... No, the dick couldn’t be bothered. He was too busy screwing Dan’s ex. Dan snorted at the thought. Still, Michael had been hurt. No, the Devil wasn’t the enemy... but someone was.  
  
He could still hear the archangel’s delirious words coming from the backseat of his cruiser. “No.” “Sword.” Mixed in with unintelligible muttering. The two words may have been unrelated... but what if they weren’t? Michael was always depicted with his sword... wouldn’t he need it to fight this mysterious adversary? He didn’t know, but he knew someone who did.  
  
Sighing, he reached for his phone. 2:27 flashed at him from the over-bright screen as he unlocked it. Well, it looked like he was making yet another late night call to his ex. Oh, well. He dialed Chloe’s number. After a couple rings, she answered.   
  
“Dan? Are you... okay?” She asked. She sounded every bit as awake as he was, and he had a moment of panic as he remembered again what she had been up to when he made his escape. They weren’t still..? No. Probably - _hopefully_ \- not.  
  
“So, hey, um... is... _he_ still with you?” He blurted nervously.  
  
Chloe paused on the other line. “Lucifer? Yeah. Did you...?” She sounded uncertain.  
  
“I... uh...” He caught himself. Did he really want to do this? He was the actual, literal Devil! Dan shivered, but he needed answers. “I need to ask him something...”  
  
Dan could hear Chloe handing the phone over, explaining the situation, then all too quickly, he heard Lucifer’s silver tongued voice ringing jubilantly into the phone. “Daniel!”  
  
He couldn’t help the groan. Of course the dick was in a good mood. “No ‘Douche’ this time?” He asked, mildly surprised. Last he knew, Lucifer and he were not on the best of terms.  
  
“Well, you didn’t shoot my doppelgänger, so I think not... Though we both know it won’t last.” He purred into the phone. The realization that Dan had been in a position to shoot Michael freaked him out for a moment before he remembered that he had chosen not to. He chose not to shoot the person he thought was Lucifer. And the Devil, it seemed, took notice.  
  
“Right...” He was going to say more, but his brain was too busy going haywire again.  
  
“Daniel?” Lucifer tried after a few moments of silence. Dan opened his mouth to speak, but found himself stuck on mute. “You know you needn’t fear me, right?” The dick actually sounded afraid. What a load of horse manure! Dan was the one who was supposed to be afraid. Strangely, he found himself getting angry instead.  
  
“And what, I’m just supposed to take your word for it?” He snapped. “The torture won’t start until I die and go to Hell, huh?”  
  
“That...” Lucifer’s voice was soft... sad sounding, and damn it, Dan felt guilty. Great. Add ‘making the Devil sad’ to the list of reason why he was screwed. “...will be up to you...” Lucifer continued in an almost small voice. “Where you go, that is... and I wouldn’t...” He faltered again. “You don’t belong there.”   
  
“Let’s cut the crap, di...” Dan stopped himself. He needed to get back on Lucifer’s good side. Self-preservation and all that. “Lucifer.” He corrected himself, taking a breath. “We both know where I’m headed, no need to sugar coat it.” He stated coldly. Lucifer didn’t correct him, he noticed. Right. This wasn’t about him, though. “But Charlotte... She’s in Heaven?” He half croaked.  
  
“Taken there by Amenadiel, yes. Took the angel express, as it were.” Came the simple reply.  
  
Dan smiled. He rather liked the idea of Amenadiel personally bringing her up to Heaven. She deserved that. “And if Michael is here... is Heaven in trouble?” He needed to know that Charlotte was safe, that Chloe and Trixie would have somewhere to go when the time came. He needed them _safe._  
  
“I don’t know.” The Devil replied curtly. “Not exactly my area, I’m afraid... but possibly, yes.”   
  
“Right.” Dan was getting out of bed now, pacing as he thought. “Does Michael have a sword?”  
  
“Yes, his counterpart to mine. But I suspect he lost it. Why?”  
  
“You have a sword???” He heard himself asking. Idiot. He was the _Devil_, of course he had a sword. Suddenly, Dan imagined Lucifer decked out in full armor, wearing a crown and holding a sword. He wasn’t sure if the image in his head was impressive or ridiculous. The idea of Lucifer in anything other than an expensive suit was just too weird. But he had a sword? So…  
  
Lucifer laughed on the other end. “Not anymore, tossed the bloody thing into another universe after you nearly annihilated me with it over stealing your pudding....” _What?_ Dan’s head screamed at him. “Though it hadn’t been mine for quite some time. I imagine Azrael is none too pleased... Not that it much matters. It’s gone.” _What? What? What?_  
  
“I... what?” Dan shook his head. Focus. He needed to focus. “No... Never mind.” He didn’t need to know. “Look... I’m... uh... I need to talk to Chlo.”  
  
“Thank _Dad!”_ Lucifer declared loudly. “This conversation’s been rather like trying to shag a legless...” Dan could hear something thudding on the other line with Chloe’s voice reprimanding him. “Ow!” The Devil whined, as Dan heard the phone being taken away. More muffled talking on the other end followed before finally, he heard Chloe’s voice.  
  
“Dan?” She said. She was met at first by silence, as Dan’s brain couldn’t get over the fact that his ex had just man-handled the Devil. Knowingly. And he _let_ her!  
  
“Yeah, I may be away for a while.” He finally managed. “I’m thinking of going up to Washington to see if I can track down Michael’s missing sword. You know, just in case... Figured that was where he first showed up, and it’s the only lead we have at the moment. Can you take Trixie until I get back?”  
  
Chloe hesitated. “Yeah, sure, but she might be around Lucifer if I do. You okay with that?” Was he? Dan didn’t know how to answer that. “Dan?” She tried again after another prolonged silence.  
  
“No,” He blurted, before realizing that this was the wrong answer. “Yeah...” he corrected himself. “He’s a dick, but I don’t think he’ll hurt her... right?”  
  
“Right.” Chloe affirmed. “I... you want me to fill you in on what I learned while I was there? Might give you a better starting point.”  
  
***  
  
Amenadiel sat on Lucifer’s throne and glared at Hell. The demons who passed below kept glancing up to see if he was still there, clearly confused by the sudden changing of the guard. He glared at them in reply until they would scurry away. Astaroth had come by at one point to demand an explanation. He didn’t have one. He hadn’t expected Lucifer to fly off. 

Where was he? What was keeping his brother? Had something happened? Was Mîchael okay? Was Lucifer? 

He told himself it was probably fine. Lucifer was just using his trip topside to see Chloe, and Amenadiel could hardly be mad at him for that. He just wished his brother could’ve discussed things with him before vanishing like that. Now he had no idea what to do or expect... except that he knew Hell needed to be managed.  
  
Mîchael had assigned the task to him last time Lucifer went topside, and he wasn’t willing to fail him again. Amenadiel shivered as he remembered bringing Malcolm back, and the subsequent loss of his wings. The more he thought about it, the more certain he was that Mîchael had not been in Heaven when that whole mess had happened. He wouldn’t have allowed it. He would’ve been on Amenadiel in an instant, sending Malcolm packing... and probably Amenadiel too.  
  
At the time, he had assumed his brother’s inaction was approval from Father - and therefore right. No wonder Lucifer teased him about being dim. For most of his long life, he had based his understanding of right and wrong on whether it was Father’s will or not. No wonder Father chose Mîchael to lead instead of him. Mîchael may have had a heart of ice, but at least he seemed to possess a moral compass.   
  
Amenadiel was not looking forward to the conversation he was inevitably going to have with his commander. Mîchael was probably going to be furious with him.  
  
Just then, the sound of angel wings pulled Amenadiel from his thoughts, and looking up, he was startled to see Duma and Remiel ascending toward him. Surprised by their arrival, but also grateful, he took flight and met them at the base of the throne.  
  
“Brother.” Remiel greeted, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I hope you can explain to me why Duma suddenly decided to bring me here. Where is Lucifer?” Her words were clipped and precise, as usual, and Amenadiel smiled at his sister. Not long ago, he was exactly like her.  
  
“It’s so good to see you, Remi.” His smile grew warmer. Granted, last time they met, she wanted to take Charlie away... but she was honoring his request to leave his son on Earth. And her presence meant he wasn’t on his own anymore.  
  
Looking at Duma as he folded his white grey and russet wings away, he found himself wondering. “One of your visions from before?” Duma nodded solemnly as he brought his pointer and middle finger to his temple, his dark eyes locking onto Amenadiel. He _knew_ something, possibly more than Amenadiel. “Mîchael?” He asked carefully.  
  
A single tear escaped the other angel’s eye, trailing down his dark skin and catching at the edge of his trimmed goatee. That was all the answer he needed. They had come to help.  
  
Amenadiel filled Remi in as best he could. As he went, he watched his sister’s face twist through a variety of expressions. At first, she was just shocked, then horrified, then... for only a moment, ashamed, and finally enraged.  
  
“I believe you are correct that he was betrayed. Gabriel has been telling us Mîchael is on a mission for Father. And Raziel... It is unlikely she wouldn’t know about this.” She was glaring now. “I am only ashamed that I had not realized sooner that something was amiss.” She declared, hefting up her spear. Amenadiel had a bad feeling about that gesture. “But fear not, brother. I will make the traitors pay.”  
  
“No.” Amenadiel exclaimed, placing his hand on her shoulder, even as she spread her wings. The last thing he needed was Remi challenging Gabriel... even if he was guilty. She wouldn’t stand a chance. She looked at him, surprised. “Not yet. We need information, and we don’t know for sure who was involved in what. We don’t need a warrior, we need a hunter right now.” He reasoned, looking at Duma to see if he agreed.  
  
The angel of silence nodded.  
  
“I see. You wish for me to tail them.” She smiled at this. Amenadiel grinned. Remi could never resist a good hunt.   
  
“Yes. And keep an eye on the others, too. There may be more involved.” 

Remi nodded, lowering her spear and looking thoughtful. “This is true. I assure you, I will get to the bottom of this.” Then, without so much as a farewell, she left.

“Good hunting, sister.” He said to the empty spot where she had just been with a sigh. Flying off without saying good bye must be a family trait.   
  
He was about to return to his post when Duma took his hand and shook his head. Amenadiel looked at him quizzically, but when his brother pointed his long graceful finger skyward, he understood. Surprised, Amenadiel took in the sight of his brother. Tall, lean, and athletic, he didn’t look much like a warrior, but Amenadiel knew better, and the scimitar he proceeded to twirl expertly definitely hinted at his other, all but forgotten skill set.  
  
“You want me up there. With Mîchael?”  
  
The Angel of silence nodded.  
  
“Thank you.” Amenadiel gushed, then as he spread his wings he added, “Good bye, brother. I will see you again soon.” And with that, he left Hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the first 24 hours of the story have passed. 🤣
> 
> Comic readers probably expected Duma and Remi.
> 
> Poor Dan. You think he’s got too many celestial shenanigans to cope with now?  
I’m just getting started. 😈


	20. Dazed and Confused

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Processing. Everyone is processing.

Lucifer listened as Chloe filled Daniel in on her trip up to Washington State, of all places. That was, apparently, where his Mī had suddenly appeared on the scene. As he understood it, his twin had already been in bad shape when he asked a random human about the ‘City of Angels.’ About LA. Why LA? What -_who? _\- was in LA? Amenadiel? Lucifer laughed at the absurdity. Mîchael and Amenadiel were not exactly friends. He would’ve needed to be quite desperate before he would even consider... unless... 

No. The other option was even more ludicrous. 

Why in Dad’s name would the Prince of Heaven seek out the Devil? But Mī had asked - _pleaded _\- that he stay… He was so confused. Frustrated, he ran his hand through his damp hair several times. It didn’t help to calm his agitated nerves, though.  
  
Linda placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and he startled, not having realized how lost in thought he had become. Looking over at her, he suddenly felt sorry. She looked beyond tired. The Detective had reassured him that she took a midday power nap, but Linda had been up all day, and probably all night, too… what with a baby squalling at odd hours. Or was he a toddler now? Not that it mattered. The vile little things had a reputation for syphoning sleep away from their parents, and angel or not, Lucifer was pretty sure his nephew was no different in that regard. The good doctor needed sleep. But instead, she was awake, worrying over him and his twin.  
  
“Are you alright?” Linda asked him as Chloe was hanging up.   
  
Lucifer blinked a couple times and took a deep breath, gulping down the mixture of conflicting feelings and plastered a reassuring smile on his face. “I’m on Earth.” He stated dumbly. What kind of manky answer was that? 

The Detective turned to look at him and for a moment he lost himself in the sight of her. Golden hair, still wet from their shower, was draped around her shoulders and dripping down her chest, leaving glistening beads of moisture on her supple breasts. She was wearing Linda’s fuzzy pink backup bathrobe, and delightfully enough, it was a little short on her, providing an ample view of her flawless legs. Legs he had been dreaming about for years, legs which, not long ago, were wrapped around his hips.

Both women stared at him as he blanked out. Misinterpreting his silence, Chloe wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him in tenderly. It felt good and he involuntarily leaned in, resting his chin on her head, relishing in the scent of her. Swallowing again, he tried a second time to answer the Doctor’s question. “Which is good. It’s all I’ve wanted… but I don’t understand…” He trailed off as the sound of angel wings broke his train of thought.  
  
Turning their attention to the guest room’s doorway, they saw Amenadiel walk in. The angel glanced around, taking everything in. Mîchael was still sleeping soundly, and Ella had recently nodded off, draped across the bed at his side, with one foot dangling off the edge. Linda was in her pajamas, hair messily scattered around her exhausted face, and Lucifer and Chloe were standing by the bed, wearing his and Linda’s bathrobes, with matching wet hair and fond expressions. “Am I interrupting something?” He asked, smirking.   
  
“Oh, no. Just trying to make sense of everything.” Lucifer replied, eyeing his brother. “Decided to leave Hell to fend for itself again?” He asked almost challengingly.  
  
Amenadiel rolled his eyes. “You could’ve at least prayed.” Amenadiel grumbled. “Or were you too busy?”  
  
Naturally, Lucifer was more than happy to answer this, but after the amusing diversion of describing _exactly_ what they had done to his brother’s and Linda’s bed, the conversation turned serious. And unfortunately, it left everyone with more questions than they had to begin with.  
  
Duma? Of all his siblings, Duma? He supposed it could be worse. He actually sort of _liked_ Duma. Mostly because he didn’t speak. Which made him infinitely more tolerable than the rest of Dear Old Dad’s flock. But… he was a librarian, not a warrior. And now he was managing Hell?  
  
And Remiel? Spying. On Raziel. A possible traitor. If that was true, well, then it was a good thing he _hadn’t_ prayed to Amenadiel, a point which he didn’t hesitate to share, much to his brother’s frustration. And there was the question of Gabriel. Raz, he could almost believe, but Gabe?  
  
He and Gabriel used to be close. But his brother seemed to take Lucifer’s rebellion as a personal attack, and in his bitterness, he spread all kinds of nasty rumors about the Devil, which, of course, the humans then embellished even further. He was pretty sure the goat thing was his fault. Still, he and Gabe were a lot alike. And he already knew his brother still made frequent trips to Earth. Partying, and wooing señoritas with his wit and grace. The gormless wazzock probably thought no one knew what he liked to get up to in his spare time. But Gabriel was loyal to a fault, and imagining him as a turncoat just didn’t fit.  
  
For his part, Amenadiel seemed just as confused.  
  
“So you’re telling me that Michael specifically asked you to stay?” Lucifer noticed that Amenadiel switched to the modern pronunciation for his twin’s name. Probably for the humans’ benefit. But it didn’t sound right to the Devil. ‘Michael’ was the name of one’s waiter at an Olive Garden or the guy one bought a Toyota from. Plebeian and dull.  
  
“I don’t understand it either, brother.” Lucifer admitted, wishing Linda had a liquor cabinet in her guest room. “I imagine he’ll tell me to shove off the moment he wakes up and comes to his senses.”  
  
Amenadiel shook his head. “I don’t think so. Why would Duma come to take over in Hell if you weren’t expected to stay on Earth?”  
  
“You said he used to have visions of the future. Do you think he knew this would happen?” The Detective ventured.

Amenadiel nodded, and Lucifer found himself legless all of a sudden, as he sank onto the edge of the bed gracelessly.   
  
“Lucifer!” Chloe exclaimed, the arm she had wrapped around him ineffectively trying to support his weight.

Duma was acting on a vision. This was big... the second rebellion theory was starting to look plausible, and that thought worried him. It meant that he got to stay on Earth. For now. But it also meant his human friends were probably in danger. Not to mention his nephew, the one sibling who seemed to care, and… Mîchael.  
  
Sighing, he chose to mask his concerns with humor. “I’m quite alright, Detective… just thinking.” He grinned sardonically, as she sat at his side, taking his hand. “Seems we’ve found ourselves caught up in a rather convoluted plot. Would make for a rather dreadful novel.” He laughed. “I just… I hope I haven’t missed the first eight chapters of it.” He joked. “After all, I’m supposed to be the main character.”  
  
Chloe rolled her eyes. “Hopefully, you missed the bulk of it, and now everything can settle down.” Then she shook her head. “And what makes you think _you_ would be the main character?” She countered, snuggling into his side and grinning at him. It felt so good… and she smelled bloody fantastic.  
  
“I’m inclined to agree with Chloe, here.” Linda commented, rubbing her eyes. “We’ve all had enough excitement, don’t you think?” Then, after a pause, “and clearly, I’m the main character.”  
  
They continued to argue over who the ‘main character’ was for a bit, but Lucifer’s heart wasn’t in it. After a while, he asked to borrow a phone. He needed to buy one for himself, and check out real estate in the area. If he was staying, he needed proper accommodations. 

“Why not just go to your Penthouse?” The Detective wondered. “Maze has been running Lux and taking care of it for you.”

Lucifer gaped. That was uncharacteristically thoughtful of her. Unless she had just moved in for convenience and booze?

“Yeah. She kept insisting that you were coming back. Said you’re predictable like that.” Linda laughed. 

Lucifer scoffed. He was NOT predictable.  
  
***  
  
The sun had not quite risen yet when Maze found herself waking up, still sprawled out on the cement walkway by the devastated storage unit. Everything hurt. Her back was sore from being thrown against a wall by the Sword of God, and her arms were sore from the bruises that were forming from her attempt to grapple with the other archangel. Maze coughed a bit, not surprised to see blood come out, reminding her of the open wound in her stomach. She had almost forgotten that fighting with Lucifer’s siblings was very different from fighting with him. They didn’t care how much hurt they caused. Or if she survived… but then... He _had_ said that it wouldn’t do to deprive the Devil of his favored warrior… so it seemed he hadn’t intended to kill her either.  
  
Maze was furious over her defeat as she pulled herself up, only to be reminded of the cracked femur from when he had kicked her there. She grinned at the memory though, as she looked at her hand and saw that she still had a fistful of brown feathers in her grasp. He had screamed so beautifully when she ripped them out. She was pretty sure she broke his wing too. He was gonna find flying impossible for a bit.  
  
Good.  
  
Maze groaned as she started to move. The sky was growing lighter now, and she realized she had lost the rest of the night, which meant that the humans who worked at the facility would be back soon, and if she knew what was good for her, she would be long gone before then. Limping, she found her way over to where she had left her bike. It was, thankfully, still in one piece, but as she tried to mount it, she cringed.   
  
Great. She wasn’t sure she could ride with her leg like that. But she had to. Frustration grew into fury as she willed herself to clamber on and start it up. The purr of its engine soothed some of the fire in her mood.  
  
She wanted her bed… but it was currently in the same house as _him._ Screw that. She wanted alcohol too, but her alcohol was also with… him. Lucifer’s Penthouse had booze though, and since he wasn’t around to drink the good stuff…  
  
But Ella was in danger. It was a safe bet that the angel and his zombie minions had figured out who the unit belonged to. And if they were looking for Mîchael, they would no doubt decide to track her in order to get to him. She needed to be warned. They all did.  
  
Maze sighed, leaning on her bike, indecisive. Last she knew, Ella was still coddling the murder angel, looking at him with star-struck eyes. She could just imagine what the stupid human was thinking. ‘Saint Michael,’ the ‘Prince of Heaven.’ The ‘Defender’… Her God’s right-hand angel. The religious idiot was probably hero worshipping the bastard. She didn’t want the forensic scientist to get hurt, especially after she had so easily accepted Maze, but she loathed the idea of talking to her while she was with Lucifer’s traitor twin.  
  
Finally, a plan came to mind. Dan would be coming in to work. Dan had seemed far more freaked out by everything, so he wasn’t likely to hover. Knowing him, he was going to pour himself into his work in order to keep distracted. Which meant he could be found at the precinct. Away from the angel who made sport of demons who came to Earth. Maze remembered how it all started. It had been decreed that demons were no longer allowed to play on Earth, and at first, no one took the decree from above seriously.  
  
But then demons started dropping like flies. It hadn’t taken long to realize what was happening. It was actually Astaroth who had returned to fill everyone in. No one knew for sure why he had chosen to spare her, when the others had all been killed without hesitation, but Maze was pretty sure it was so she could deliver a message: Mîchael would destroy any demons who chose to come up to Earth to torment his Daddy’s precious delicate creations. Demons belonged in Hell.

Demons on Earth would die. That was when possession became popular… but _that_ didn’t last long either. It seemed Lucifer didn’t approve. But now… Maze was on Earth.  
  
She was a Demon. On Earth. She doubted the Destroyer would make any exceptions for her. Why would he? For Lucifer? They hated each other. For Amenadiel? Yeah, right. But she wasn’t running. She was going to stay. She was going to go back to Lux, find her way up the elevator, patch herself up, and pay Dan a visit at the LAPD. Then she would deal with the angels who were threatening her humans - her family. And if that included Mîchael, she would find a way to deal with him too. Even if it killed her.  
  
Which it probably would.  
  
***  
  
The angel of Death was not prepared for what – _who_ – she found floating disembodied around the mysterious homicide scene. It was strange for a murder to occur without her knowledge. Usually, she was the first to know. But there had been no mortal souls in need of an escort… and she only knew something had happened because she spotted the police tape while collecting the soul of a man who had died nearby. The poor man had keeled over because of a stroke caused by reading his own obituary due to a mistaken identity situation. 

After dropping him off, she returned to investigate. She landed in the abandoned warehouse, and folding her wings away, she looked around the plant riddled site. Then she saw them.

“You?!” She exclaimed as she gaped at the three familiar souls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Luci not getting it: 😕  
Readers: He came for you, ya big dummy!😤
> 
> Now, let us share in a moment of silence for the poor nameless sod who died because he couldn’t cope with his own mortality. 🙏🏻😞
> 
> Thanks for reading. Comments are like candy for me. Love you all. 😘


	21. Gone Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan wants to be done with all this. Luck is not on his side.

“Hey, Detective Espinoza, I’m so glad you’re in today. How’s Lopez?” Pam called out when she saw him from half way across the bullpen. She smiled brightly as she rushed over, a file in one hand and coffee mug in the other. Her pearls bounced excitedly with every rushed step.  
  
“Better.” Dan said, suddenly remembering his and Ella’s rather dramatic exit yesterday. God - No, _not_ God... whatever - had it only been one day? It seemed forever ago. “She’s taking time off to be with...” He was about to say ‘Michael’ until he remembered their fib. Not wanting to get her in trouble, he quickly changed tactics. “...her brother.” Pam smiled sympathetically at that. “Looks like he’ll make a full recovery.” He concluded.  
  
“So glad to hear it.” Pam breathed coming to a stop by his desk, sighing with relief. “It just breaks my heart when she’s down and out.” Dan nodded in agreement. Ella was sort of the LAPD’s unofficial happiness generator. “So...” Pam fidgeted, glancing over to Chloe’s desk. “I heard Decker flew back into town yesterday evening, too. Is she coming in today?”  
  
“Not likely...” Dan admitted. He wasn’t sure how long Lucifer was going to be in town, but until he left, he had a hard time imagining Chloe anywhere but glued to his side. She had been a complete train wreck when he left. Left to go back to Hell. _Hell..._ he was starting to understand why Lucifer was always drinking.  
  
“Did she...” Pam leaned in closer, a worried, but also eager look on her face. “Is that sexy-ass partner of hers okay?” She asked in hushed tones. “I mean... was it him?”  
  
“Lucifer is fine, actually.” Dan stated, noticing that her response was strangely equal parts relief and - disappointment. Like she was hoping for juicy gossip. “Amenadiel contacted him. It was his... and I can’t believe I’m saying this, but it was his twin brother in Washington.” He explained.  
  
Pam’s eyes bulged out comically wide and her mouth dropped open. “Oh, my God! Really?! Lucifer has a twin?” She blushed again. Dan rolled his eyes. At least now everyone’s unnatural reactions to him finally made sense. He just wondered if it was because he was -technically - an angel, or if it was because he was the actual Devil. “Is he okay?” Pam probed.  
  
“Yeah.” Dan said after a moment. He could still see Lucifer holding the archangel in his arms, dazzling white wings folding in around them. “Michael... I think he’ll be okay. Lucifer came back when he learned what happened, and I think Chlo is gonna take an extra day off for them.” Dan heard himself say.   
  
“So she’s gonna... Wait, his name is Michael?” Pam exclaimed, jaw dropping even more... if that was possible. “Really?” She laughed. Dan knew exactly what was going on in her head. It was the same thing he would’ve been thinking had he learned about Michael any other way. He found himself shaking his head.  
  
“Yeah... anyway, were you just wanting to ask about Lucifer, or was there something you needed?” He queried in an attempt to change the subject. It worked. Pam seemed to snap out of her - probably lust driven - daydream and she held up the folder she had brought.  
  
“Oh, right.” She exclaimed, handing the folder over. “I was gonna give this to Decker, but maybe if she’s busy...” Dan took the folder and opened it.  
  
He found a picture of the Satellite view over Mt. Baker with an arrow pointing at a random patch of forest, as well as a craigslist posting from an “Elohim” Adisa. It didn’t take him long to figure out why Pam wanted Chloe to have this. His Detective brain was seeing way too many coincidences. As he looked it over, Pam explained that the same Robert Fisher who had called in about Lucifer - _Michael_ \- had called again to tell them about the posting. Mr. Fisher’s contact was included in the file as well. Thanking Pam, he decided to give him a call.  
  
Turned out Robert Fisher was a delight to talk to, and unlike Pam, his concern was quite genuine. Dan reassured him that Michael was safe in LA now, to which the man had given excessive thanks to God... because of course he did. Then Dan explained that he was planning to make a trip up north to continue investigating things. Fisher laughed and told him this was an excellent idea, as the local detective on the case seemed completely useless.  
  
“I can give your contact information to this Mr. Adisa, if you like, seeing as I already spoke with him.” Mr. Fisher suggested.  
  
“Do you think that would help?” Dan wondered. Followed by, “You didn’t tell him about Michael, did you?”  
  
“Nope. Don’t know if we can trust him. I was considering being his guide myself, see if I could get to the bottom of this, but I’m willing to bet a homicide detective would probably be better.” The other man stated.  
  
In the end, they agreed that Mr. Fisher would make first contact, telling Adisa that Dan was a historian friend who was also interested in the mystery sword. Fisher then gave him his home address, and offered to pick him up at the airport. Talking to people like him always restored Dan’s faith in humanity, and he was suddenly grateful that this was the first human Michael came upon.  
  
Hanging up, he was suddenly aware that someone was staring at him. Feeling a chill, he turned to see a tall slender man watching him from near Ella’s lab. Dan was about to wonder how he had gotten in, when a voice in his head started screaming. _Not human! Not human!_ The man, with dark skin, long straight white hair pulled back in a neat pony, and coal black eyes gracefully approached him. Everything about him, from the charcoal suit to his obviously false smile was off-putting. It wasn’t that he was ugly or awkward... just... _wrong._  
  
“Detective Espinoza?” The strange being in front of him inquired as he towered over him. Wow, the guy was tall enough to make even Lucifer seem almost short! Dan blinked. “I heard that you and Ms. Ella Lopez left together yesterday, something about a sick... brother?” He sat down bringing him about chest level to Dan, standing. His voice was hypnotic, Dan realized as he blinked. Like more so than Lucifer’s.  
  
“Yeah... I... she needed a lift. Wasn’t a good idea for her to drive while she was so distraught.” He offered vaguely.  
  
The man frowned in what looked like a parody of sympathy. “I see. Poor darling. I’m trying to contact her about a break-in at the storage facility my family operates. Store-it storage? It seems her unit had been broken into and the contents were stolen.” He remarked in his oddly melodious voice, sounding almost bored.   
  
Dan’s heart stopped. Michael’s wings! Someone took them, and they were after Ella. Play it cool, he told himself. “That’s a real bummer. Did you try calling her?” He shrugged, treating the encounter like improv.  
  
The strange not-human seemed surprised by his response, but he never broke character. And neither did Dan. After a painful and wildly dishonest conversation, Dan finally got rid of him. After which, he made a panicked call to Linda, so he could warn them all.  
  
But it was Amenadiel who answered, apparently back from Hell. Dan was relieved... less so to learn Lucifer was still topside. He offered a quick explanation of how his morning had gone, annoyed to hear the Devil in the background, offering his two cents about God when Dan asked if this Elohim guy might be legit. At least they agreed, no, there was zero chance of that. Then he told them about the strange visitor. Amenadiel was stumped. He agreed that the individual seemed dangerous, and was probably not human, but he had no idea who it might be. Again, Lucifer had to add his two cents about Amenadiel being incapable of keeping track of their siblings. Never mind he had no clue either. Most of the call was wasted listening to the angel and the Devil arguing like... well, like the siblings they were - arguing about everything from whether Lucifer ought to keep Michael with him in the penthouse to whether adding eggs to something made it a breakfast food, until he suddenly found the phone being snatched away from him and hung up by a demon who looked like she had been through Hell.  
  
“Maze!” Dan jumped back fearfully. She had a black eye, a busted lip, and bruises up and down her arms. And she was limping.  
  
And she was still terrifying.  
  
“Yo. I need you to tell the others that an archangel with a bunch of zombies stole Mîkā’el’s wings.” Dan stared at her. He had reached his breaking point for divine bullshit five revelations ago. Maze glared and snapped her fingers in front of him.  
  
“What?” He squeaked.  
  
Maze sighed and sank heavily into the same seat the other not-human had been in just minutes earlier. She sighed again and looked - _glared_ at him. Then she tried again. “How’s the murder angel?” She asked rolling her eyes. “Not that I care.” She added, grabbing his coffee and downing it. Coffee he still hadn’t touched. Dan didn’t protest. He was honestly afraid to.   
  
“Um... Lucifer fixed him with magic wings.” He whispered nervously. Maze’s eyes narrowed.  
  
She glared silently at him for a long time. “Figures.” She finally grumbled, standing up. Then she turned to leave.  
  
“Where are you going?” He demanded, suddenly confused.  
  
“Back to Linda’s. If Lucifer is here, he’ll take the murder angel to his penthouse, which means I can have my room back.” She stated as if this was all normal for her. Hell, it probably was. He wanted to say something, but he was still stuck. Demon. Actual Demon. Forged in the bowels of Hell... She was dangerous, she was a predator, a killer, and she was...

Gone.  
  
Dan shook his head to clear it. 

After standing still long enough to earn concerned glances from more than one coworker, he finally snapped out of it to grab a fresh cup of coffee and make plans to get out of dodge. Sheepishly, he wondered if his quest was just an excuse to run away. He legitimately wanted to help, but at the same time, the madness of being around everything was just too much. An expedition into the woods to look for a lost artifact sounded like a great alternative... the best part? No celestials. Just one - probably insane - rich guy from South Africa. He could do that. Crazy, he could handle. Real? Not so much.  
  
It was surprisingly easy to get permission to take a whole month off on the spot. He didn’t even have to explain himself to the lieutenant. Apparently, ever since Charlotte’s death, it had been assumed that he would be taking time. “Good for you, Espinoza. Take as long as you need.” That was it. Sighing, he wondered if everyone pitied him now.  
  
After booking his flight, and packing for the trip, he had time to make a couple more stops. The first was a florist, from whom be bought a half dozen roses, and the second...  
  
Charlotte’s grave was nestled in a nice quiet part of the cemetery, near a tall tree, which cast dappled shadows on it. The cheery sunshine of LA almost felt like a mockery to him. How dare the sun shine when she was gone? Sighing, he set the roses down and looked teary-eyed to the sky, before returning his gaze to the unfeeling, cold stone.  
  
“Maybe in another life, we could have made it work... maybe it could have worked in this life... if you hadn’t...” He sniffed and blinked his eyes. He felt silly talking to her, but a part of him wondered if maybe she could hear him. It didn’t matter either way. He needed to say it. “If you hadn’t been taken away.” He sighed, placing a hand on the headstone. “I... I can’t deal with any of this, it’s just so... Is this what it was like for you? All your talk of Hell makes so much more sense, now... but I guess you managed to avoid that fate after all.” He smiled sadly, knowing he wasn’t going to be so lucky.  
  
Dan shivered in spite of the warm sun on his back and he shook his head. “But now everything’s all messed up.” He sniffed and rubbed his eyes, taking a stuttering breath. “I’m gonna fix it, though. I promise. No matter what awaits me, I’m gonna make sure you’re okay.” He reassured the emptiness.  
  
His vision blurred as he blinked back tears and shook with barely contained sobs. “Charlotte, I’m so sorry.” He clenched his fist, and took three deep steadying breaths.  
  
“But at least I know you’re in a good place, and there is nothing I won’t sacrifice to keep your soul safe.” He fell silent after that, the weight of what he said thick in the air and heavy in his heart. It was true. He would do anything to save her soul.  
  
Slowly he rose to his feet and started to make his way back to where he had parked the car when, suddenly, he was jarred by the abrupt chime of a FaceTime call coming from his pant pocket.  
  
Quickly wiping the tears and snot from his face, he pulled his phone out of his pocket to stare perplexed at the unfamiliar number trying to video chat him.  
  
“Hello?” He answered as he looked upon the charming smile of a dark skinned older man on the other end. He had shoulder length braids and a fancy looking arrowhead necklace on.  
  
“Hello. My name is Elohim. Robert Fisher suggested I contact you. He believes you may be able to assist me in my quest.” Elohim Adisa greeted with a silky accented voice. Oh, yeah. Dan had almost forgotten about him. Crazy guy. This was good. He could really use a distraction from all the real celestial nonsense messing with his life.  
  
“Right, yes. It would be my pleasure.” He smiled in reply.

**_Song Title:_** [Gone Away cover](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BIQK4-9YFW0) by Five Finger Death Punch, original song by Offspring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dan: I need a break from celestials. 😞  
Sandi: Hello, I’m the bad guy.🙃  
Dan: 😱  
Maze: Yo, zombies are after you. *drinks coffee* 😡  
Dan: 😱😱 *makes plans to run away*  
Elohim: Hello, let’s hang out. 😎  
Dan: finally, someone human. 😪  
Elohim: 😏
> 
> Query: I’m still new to fan fics and AO3. So can someone please explain collections for me?
> 
> Announcement: rough draft is complete. I will be posting twice a week now. 😃


	22. Sound of Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandalphon finds a chicken. Astaroth (Inanna) meets an angel. Azrael has questions.

He was confused. Why hadn’t that police officer... that Detective Espinoza... been charmed by his voice? Humans were always entranced when he spoke. Sandalphon couldn’t understand it. It was almost as if the man had somehow built up a tolerance. He seemed to be able to resist, as if he had already been inoculated by being around a higher divinity. Come to think of it, all the humans at the LAPD seemed at least a little resistant. But that only made sense if they had spent considerable time around an archangel with a charming aura... like Mîchael, or Zerachiel, or... Lucifer. Maybe? The Lightbringer had reportedly been in LA for a while... but he ran a night club. Perhaps Espinoza frequented the establishment.  
  
Sandalphon supposed he still could have gotten to him. If speaking wasn’t enough, singing would most certainly have done it. But that was not an option. Never again. He may have been named the angel of music when he came into being, but that wasn’t him. Being the youngest of the archangels, music had been invented long before he came along, and as far as he was concerned, by someone far more suited to the role.   
  
Sandalphon missed hearing the Star of the Morning sing. With the passion he had for it, he should have been allowed to be the angel of music. He didn’t need divine ‘gifts’ to entrance people with his voice. But, of course, Father had other plans for him. And just as Lucifer was pushed into a role that wasn’t right for him, Sandalphon had been told who and what he was meant to be.   
  
He was told that he would inspire; that he would lead people to understand themselves and their feelings better through music. He tried to be what Father wanted for a while, and in so doing, he discovered he could entrance mortal souls by singing, he could play any instrument, and compositions came naturally to him. He was a pied piper and a muse rolled into one. But it never felt right. It wasn’t who he was, and he hated the role. But he wasn’t given a choice. None of them were.  
  
As the tallest of his siblings, he fancied he cut quite the imposing figure, perfect for combat. He enjoyed battle, and he was good at it, too. Even Mîchael had told him once that his gifts and his nature seemed to be at cross purposes. Sandalphon had appreciated the comment, seeing it as praise. But that was a very long time ago. Before the rebellion. Before Mîchael had committed the unforgivable sin of betraying his twin.  
  
He could still remember hearing Zerachiel’s prayer when everything fell apart. _The Lightbringer and the Warrior are fighting. Lucifer is lost. _

If Mîchael had just stayed loyal to his twin - the twin he supposedly loved - everything would be different now. Lucifer would not be stuck in Hell... a place without music. Zerachiel and Sandalphon wouldn’t have had to go into hiding. Their siblings would be free. He would never have had to travel beyond creation to find their army... everything would be better. Sandalphon hated Mîchael for his betrayal.  
  
Zerachiel, of course, saw things differently. He adored the ‘Prince of Heaven.’ But while he grieved at having to hurt him in order to achieve their eventual glorious victory, Sandalphon relished in it. Mîchael knew this, of course, and being the clever manipulative strategist he was, he found a way to play the one against the other. And now he had escaped. Sandalphon was not surprised by this. Zerachiel had been getting too soft. And regardless of how many times Sandalphon warned his idiot commander that he was underestimating their prisoner, he would not hear it.  
  
No matter.  
  
He would find him. Then when they brought him back, he was going to make sure he destroyed whatever was left of his feisty brother’s stubborn spirit. He would make the Defender of Heaven - Father’s favored puppet - suffer.  
  
This thought filled him with joy as he picked the lock and let himself into the apartment belonging to Ella Lopez. As he stepped in, he was surprised to see a chicken strutting across the dark living room. He liked animals, and he couldn’t help but smile at the unexpected surprise... but the human was gone. And Mîchael wasn’t there, either.  
  
Sandalphon huffed with frustration.   
  
He was hoping he might get lucky, and as amusing as it was to find a random avian hanging out in an apartment, the chicken was hardly the right kind of feathered quarry. Still... He knew the story about the injured ‘brother’ was hogwash. The human _did_ have an injured archangel all to herself, though.   
  
Sitting down to think, he rubbed his eyes. What was she doing with him? Staring helplessly at him? Caught up in some hotel in a feverish fit of worship? Looking around the living room, he noticed more than one sign of devotion. A cross on the wall, a bible, a poster with a quote about faith...   
  
Yes, he was sure of it. This Ella Lopez had likely lost her marbles. She was probably gawking and fawning over her unexpected prize. But eventually she would come to her senses, and when that happened, she would have to come back to her apartment - if for no other reason than to feed the chicken (the tarantula and chameleon too), which he was pretty sure she wasn’t supposed to have.  
  
And when she came back, they would be ready.   
  
It wasn’t his style to sit back and wait when he could be continuing the hunt, though. Smirking, he pulled out his phone and texted one of his soldiers, instructing her to wait in hiding and tail the human when she showed up.  
  
“You can’t hide forever.” He crooned into the empty apartment as he stood to leave. Startled by the break in silence, the chicken fluttered back and clucked angrily at him.  
  
***  
  
Inanna didn’t scare easily. That’s what she told herself anyway when she jumped out of her skin - literally, as she took on her more demonic features - at the sight of a strange archangel suddenly silently behind her.  
  
Tall dark and handsome just looked at her in amusement as she glared at him, raising her hand to summon her beasts. He toyed with his scimitar as she slid back into the visage of a goddess, but then he surprised her by putting it away and offering his hand. What the Devil? Speaking of - where was Lucifer? Was this idiotic angel looking for him? She lowered her hand, motioning for her beasts to be still - for now.  
  
“You should leave. Lucifer isn’t around, and in case you forgot, we don’t like angels here.” She snarled. He shrugged, dropping his hand. Still silent. Fine. “If it’s Amenadiel you want, last I saw, the pious twit was sitting on the throne.” She tried, turning to leave, deciding he wasn’t a threat after all.   
  
The strange dark skinned angel put his hand on her shoulder as she started to walk away, and she turned to glare at him for the presumptuous gesture, but he shook his head and pointed up.  
  
What was wrong with this angel? Did he leave his tongue in Heaven? That was when it occurred to her... silent... wasn’t there an angel who didn’t talk? Inanna couldn’t remember his name... but if he was _that_ angel... what was he doing in Hell? Lucifer had said he was essentially a celestial librarian.  
  
“You mute?” She checked.  
  
He shrugged again, like it wasn’t that big of a deal. Then he pointed toward the mines where they gathered metal for forging.  
  
It took a moment before she realized he wasn’t, in fact, looking for Lucifer or Amenadiel. He was looking for her... and the daffy feather brain was trying to communicate. Fantastic. Just what she needed. Looking around, to make sure no other demons were around, she leaned in closer.   
  
“Look, whatever-your-name-is, I don’t know what you’re doing here, but it’s not good for me to be seen chit chatting with angels. So whatever you need, forget it. Just flutter off back to the Silver City before you get hurt.” She exasperated in harsh quiet tones.  
  
Strong silent type shook his head. He pointed to his fist, then he flapped his wings once, then he pointed up.  
  
Inanna sighed. She did not need this. What she needed was Lucifer. Back in Hell. Running Hell. Instead, she got an angel who communicated via charades trying to tell her something. Okay. She could do this. “Fist, wing flapping, fly away?” He nodded and smiled. “I don’t...”  
  
The keeper of divine knowledge made two little horns with his fingers over his forehead, then he pointed up, and then he hugged the hilt of his blade.   
  
“Devil, up there. Hugging a sword?” She blinked. He nodded and looked at her expectantly. Inanna felt a headache coming on. If she wasn’t already in Hell... “What is that supposed to mean?” He just looked at her. Inanna felt an urge to punch him... but looking at his wicked weapon, she chose not to. Mute book keeper or not... he was still an archangel. “Okay, so... the fist flew away...” Oh! Amenadiel was the Fist of God.  
  
He grinned at her, seeing that she had caught on. Then he pantomimed putting on a crown and made an over-the-top stern expression before looking at her expectantly.  
  
Inanna’s jaw dropped open. “You can’t be serious! Amenadiel left, Lucifer is with Michael, and we’re stuck with you?” She demanded. He smiled. “You don’t even talk!”  
  
He rolled his eyes and looked at her sardonically.   
  
“Okay, so... you pointed at the mines... what...” She shook her head, this was going to be a very difficult conversation. “What are you trying to tell me?”  
  
Far too many rounds of charades and incorrect guesses later, she finally had an idea of what he was trying to say. The gist was that he needed freshly mined metals and the forge master was to use it to make bullets. She pointed out that bullets were a broad request. She needed to know what kind. Then he left.  
  
He was gone long enough she started to think he had just given up, but then...  
  
Inanna didn’t want to admit she scared easily, but after jumping out of her skin a second time to find him silently behind her... “You need to stop doing that!” She exclaimed, glaring at him.  
  
He shrugged. He was obviously enjoying himself.  
  
“I need to put a bell on you.” The demon huffed.   
  
He shook with what could only be described as silent laughter. Then he held out a single bullet. Inanna was about to tell him to fly off again when he held up a slip of paper.  
  
Disbelieving, she snatched the bullet and paper and looked down to see elegant handwriting. It was even written in her language. Gaping, she read what he had written. “I need you to make a few bullets like this one, so I can take them top-side. It’s for Lucifer’s protection.”  
  
Inanna looked at the insufferable, silent, _obviously_ literate, _librarian_ archangel. “What the Hell!?” He smiled at her, seemingly pleased with himself. “You could’ve been writing your intentions from the start!?!”   
  
He made a face.  
  
“You didn’t feel like it?” He nodded. The headache was back. Had she _really_ just been trolled by a mute angel? “Fine, just... if doing this will keep our king safe... I’ll see it done. But you should know, I hate you.” She grumbled. He shook his head. “You don’t think I do?” He shrugged. “You presume too much.” She retorted, rolling her eyes.   
  
She was never going to admit he was right. His not talking made him infinitely less intolerable than his holier-than-thou siblings. He may have pranked her, but he hadn’t insulted her, talked down to her, or threatened her once. And it seemed like he was trying to help. No. She was never going to admit she didn’t hate him. But she was getting him a bell.   
  
***  
  
“Welcome to purgatory.” Azrael said, dropping off her three unexpected charges. “It’s not much… in fact, it’s almost nothing… kinda the point… but if you guys don’t wanna go to Heaven or Hell… this is all I’ve got. Besides banishment, again.” They shuddered at that, which concerned her. She sighed as the three souls drifted out, looking thoroughly miserable. It was quiet. They were quiet. In purgatory, silence ruled, and as they were, they had no power to change that, which really sucked, because she still had questions for them. Questions they had refused to answer. _“How? Why? What’s banishment like? Who killed you this time? What’s with all the plants?”_ But they were tight lipped, and she wasn’t cruel, so she dropped it. And they had made it clear that this was the least terrible option, so here they were.  
  
“I’ll be back again, soon.” She decided as she turned to leave. “Smell ya’ later.” The three didn’t say anything in reply. They couldn’t. It made her angry. 

She really needed to talk to Dad about a better third option… but no one was being allowed in to see him. Maybe she could try Mikey. He seemed to be away a lot lately, but as far as she knew, he always came right back, and she was fairly certain that after the incident at Hiroshima, she could get him to agree to almost anything. Even a meeting with Dad. Who was apparently holed up in his workshop and couldn’t be bothered. But this was important, so He would probably - hopefully understand.  
  
As she spread her wings to leave, she waved sympathetically at the three miserable souls and left, her head reeling. And as she set off to continue her task, a thought occurred to her. If these three were here… there may be more. They were not revealing themselves to her upon death… probably because they were already dead... sorta… so… there might be more ghosts floating around in need of a pickup. Souls who might be more forthcoming, perhaps?   
  
Azrael sighed. Her job had just gotten a lot harder.

_**Song Title:**_ [The Sound of Silence](https://youtu.be/usN-pKfw6Q8) cover by Disturbed (Yeah, I know, Disturbed... but seriously, this cover is beautiful)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo, first time seeing Sandalphon’s point of view. Thoughts?
> 
> First real look at Duma, too. He makes me happy. 😆
> 
> And, of course I love Azrael. 😉
> 
> Comments are always lovely. If you have ideas, suggestions, and requests (or spot any typos), I will at least take them into consideration. Love you all. ❤️❤️❤️
> 
> PS: Margaret says hi! 🐓


	23. Faraway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maze to the rescue! Luci needs Linda.
> 
> Warning: Ella has a potty mouth (in Spanish)

“Yo, Margaret! What are you doing out of the bathtub?” Ella exclaimed as she let herself in. The forensic scientist seemed to be taking in the state of her apartment with dismay as she made her way over to the chicken currently strutting across the carpet.  
  
In the shadows, Maze had to stifle a laugh when the bird fluttered and clucked indignantly at Ella as she tried to collect her, stepping gingerly around a splash of bird shit as she went. Then, when the chicken started to peck irritably at her couch, the demon smirked through her yawn.  
  
It had been a long morning. After visiting with Dan at the precinct, Maze headed straight back to Linda’s for some R and R, and sure enough, Lucifer had just left, taking his sleeping lookalike with him. Maze had been mildly surprised to hear he was still out for the count, and it made her wonder.

Why did he even need to be healed in the first place? And how bad had his injuries been if he was still conked out? Maze wasn’t concerned for him. She wasn’t. She just knew it was messing with Lucifer. Bad. The Devil blamed the archangel for his fall just as much as he blamed his Daddy... if not more. But she also knew he longed to be accepted by his family again. So here he was, trying to be a good brother or something. It pissed Maze off. The idiot was just gonna get hurt again, and the murder angel didn’t deserve his forgiveness. But whatever.

By the time Maze arrived at Linda’s, Dan had already called everyone about the wings, and Ella had apparently left immediately after. Something about animals needing to be moved. So after a bowl of vodka and cereal, she headed over as well, not wanting to leave the human unguarded. But the apartment was empty when she arrived. Taking advantage, she slunk into the shadows to wait.  
  
When Ella finally came in, she was munching on a burrito and carrying supplies she must have gotten from a pet shop on her way over.  
  
“I’m sorry it took so long to get back, I know you’re hungry.” Ella was saying as she corralled the chicken toward the bathroom where she kept the feed, only to gasp upon discovering the mess ‘Margaret’ had made in there.

_“Hijo de las mil putas!”_ Ella exclaimed as she ushered the obtuse bird who had wrecked the bathroom out toward the travel cage she had bought. _“Que te folle un pez!”_ Maze covered her mouth to stifle her laughter again as the human ushered her pet along. She had no idea Ella had such a filthy mouth.  
  
As she secure the disagreeable bird into it’s new cage, she huffed and shook her head, then she continued to chat. “I know you would understand, though. He needed help, you know. And, like, he’s a literal angel.” Ella sighed, a dreamy look crossing her face as she collected the chameleon. Maze rolled her eyes. “And he has the most amazing blue eyes, you guys.” Ella breathed as she transported it into a carrying cage. “I mean, Lucifer has _always_ been yummy, but now there’s two of them? And they are actual, _literal_ archangels! Is it wrong if I kinda have a bit of a crush?” She looked expectantly at the tarantula she had acquired from a crime scene the month prior. The arachnid offered no response.  
  
Maze resisted the urge to audibly gag.  
  
“I mean, Michael? I have, legit been hearing stories about him my whole life, and now...” She made a gesture with her hands and an explosion sound to indicate her mind was blowing up.   
  
Again, no answer from the animals. 

It was in that moment that Maze caught the now familiar scent of ‘zombie’ nearby as a suspicious noise came from the bedroom.   
  
The demon erupted from her hiding spot and charged across the room to tear the door to Ella’s room open, where she caught the bitch climbing in stealthily through the window.

“Maze?!” Ella blurted out in alarm as she tore passed her. Margaret fluttered in a panic as she went by.

The intruder had just long enough to look startled and reach for her whip, before Maze drove both of her blades into her, one digging into her gut and the other at the throat. The demon pulled her kill in and tossed the body crudely on the floor, closing the window. Her injuries ached from the sudden burst of activity, but mostly it felt good to kill something after the night she had.  
  
As Maze knelt - wincing a little in the process - to retrieve her knives, she heard Ella gasp from the doorway. “Oh Em Gee! It’s another one!” She exclaimed, and before she knew it, she was being pushed aside as the curious minded human proceeded to investigate.  
  
“Ella.” Maze barked. The girl looked up with wide eyes. “What are you doing?”  
  
“Collecting samples. I never got any off the last one. All the evidence the LAPD collected vanished. Probably taken by the same people - these guys...” She explained, gloves already on, and tools in hand. Where had she even gotten those from?  
  
Maze stared disbelievingly.  
  
“Thanks, by the way.” She added as she started to collect a blood sample.  
  
Maze grinned. “Yeah, well, can’t have zombies stalking you while you blab endlessly about the murder angel.”  
  
Ella blushed, turning to look horrified at Maze. “You heard all that?!?” She balked.  
  
Figured. She wasn’t afraid of ghosts, angels, demons, the Devil himself, or zombies... but being overheard? Maze started to laugh.  
  
“Oh, yeah.” She grinned evilly as Ella cringed visibly. “Every. Word.” She leaned in, sneering a bit.  
  
“Please, you can’t tell anyone!” Ella pleaded, and Maze’s grin became predatory. But the truth was, she had more important things to do than torture her friend.  
  
“I promise nothing... but you need to be more careful. It’s probably best if you disappear before they figure out their spy is toast.” Maze replied, straightening up to check the perimeter.  
  
Ella’s face fell. She stood up and sighed. “Yeah, that’s the plan. Luce said I could use his desert estate.” The human’s expression darkened a bit as she looked at the twice dead home invader on the floor. “What do we do with her?”  
  
“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.” Maze stated simply. 

***  
  
Linda glanced again at the texts on her phone as she rode the elevator up to Lucifer’s penthouse, feeling a familiar twinge of concern.

“I need a session.” 

“Now.”

“Please.” 

Linda sighed. He hadn’t used even one emoji. That was a bad sign. She cancelled all appointments for the day - again - to be here for him, knowing it was going to be one of _those_ sessions. Seriously, though, he owed her big time for this.

First, yesterday... well that had been an easy decision to make when Amenadiel told her about Chloe’s call, she hadn’t slept well anyway, thanks to a teething Charlie... and again, today. Though she knew it was coming. He had been in Hell for a year and a half - longer for him, actually - and he had expected to be stuck there. Then Michael happened. One didn’t need to have a degree is psychology to see that he was struggling.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this, either. He wasn’t supposed to be alone with his brother. Chloe was going to take the day off to stay with him, but when Daniel announced that he needed time off from work, they decided to give his case to her. Apparently, she was the go-to person for cases that didn’t make sense. Had it been any other case, she would’ve said no... but it was Michael’s. So she reluctantly agreed, thinking it better if it didn’t go to someone else. Someone who wouldn’t know what to do with all the celestial madness.

As the elevator reached the top floor and opened with a cheery ding, she found Lucifer playing the piano, bottle within reach and cigarette smoking in its ashtray. He was utterly unkempt as he played, hair a disheveled mess, eye liner smudged around red rimmed eyes, and wearing his robe - apparently, he meant it when he said he would destroy the ‘Hell suit.’ It reminded her of the night he realized his wings had changed. This was big.

_“When the broken fall alive, let the light take me too...”_ He sang, voice cracking and barely able to hold a tune. Linda walked in, clicking her heels as she went to let him know she was there without directly interrupting.

His fingers faltered a moment, but he kept going. _“...when the waters turns to fire, Heaven please let me through...”_ He hit a wrong note and the song came to an abrupt end as he slammed his hand discordantly down on the keys. His shoulders slumped and shook as she drew closer. She stopped a few feet back, giving him a chance to compose himself. After a pause, he turned to look at her.  
  
“Doctor.” He smiled, welcoming, even though his eyes still looked more like they were about to cry.   
  
Taking a deep breath and grabbing a stool from near the bar, she motioned for him to have a seat on the couch. “I cleared my day for you.” She stated. Lucifer nodded, understanding.  
  
“I’ll send your clients thank you baskets.” He replied as he grabbed the bottle of scotch from the piano and sank into his couch. She took a seat across from him. “Do you suppose they prefer vibrators or are they more interested in beads?” Linda rolled her eyes, not sure if he was serious about this or not. She would address that later. Lucifer gulped down a gregarious amount of alcohol, mentally preparing himself with liquid courage - never mind it had no effect on him. “Why?” He blurted as he pulled the bottle from his lips, hand shaking.  
  
“Why, what, Lucifer?” She asked sliding into her calm, professionally detached therapist mode.  
  
“Why… _everything?_ Why did this happen? Why am I here? Why do I care what happens to him? Why is he hugging a bloody pillow like keeping it safe is the most important thing in the world?” He ran his hands through his hair a few times and took another swig. “I mean… we both know what he did to me… the entire bloody world knows!” His eyes flashed red as his voice raised, but then his demeanor shrank again, an almost defeated look flooding his haunted eyes. “Well, they may've embellished the story a mite… he would never stand over me like some ridiculous bloody trophy hunt…” He laughed humorlessly and ran his hand through his hair again, then he tried to adjust his cufflinks… only to remember he was wearing a robe, then he downed another gulp of scotch. “He isn’t like that.” He added softly, growing quiet.  
  
Linda paused for a minute, trying to figure out which direction to go first. “We never did talk about your fall from Heaven, do you want to discuss it now?” She tried.  
  
Lucifer scoffed and waved his hand dismissively. “No. There’s nothing to tell, really. Everyone knows the blasted story. I wanted to get Dad to give us freewill, He said no, I didn’t listen, we fought, and I lost.” He ranted, voice clipped. But then, his eyes grew distant and his voice cracked. “Mī… chose Dad’s side. He cast me away…” His voice was soft, and when he didn’t say anymore, Linda leaned in, motioning for him to keep going. Lucifer gulped and reluctantly continued. “That… I get it. I screwed up… but why…” Now he was looking away, and an annoyed expression flooded his face. “Why is this bloody pillow so uncomfortable?” He lamented, starting to manhandle the cushion he was leaning on. Linda sighed at his obvious avoidance maneuver.  
  
“You cared about one another, do you feel that he rejected you?” She encouraged, trying to get him back on topic.  
  
Lucifer stopped abusing the couch and shook his head, then he blinked his eyes several times, trying to force himself to stay composed. “Bloody Hell.” He grumbled more to himself than anything, then he glared at her. “Of course I feel rejected!” He voice edged toward shouting. “That’s what he did! He ran his sword into me! He broke my wings, and he threw me out… and you know what he said? _Don’t ever come back.”_ Lucifer’s eyes flared red again and Linda noticed sparks of fire starting to play across his face, revealing burned flesh everywhere they went. 

Trembling as he spoke, he kept going, all the fury in his voice gone. “And… and I… I still expected him to come back to me. He had to do what Dad ordered… He had to… but...” He breathed in raggedly. Still, the firelight continued to spread. “I didn’t expect him to abandon me… for them all to just…” He fought back a sob, as his face changed completely, revealing the red and scarred visage of the Devil. Linda held very still, wondering if he was even aware of what was happening. 

“But… but… now he’s in trouble, and the stubborn… why did he come to _me?”_ The firelight coursed over his body now, revealing more and more red burns. “I should just leave him, like he did me… but… why? Why didn’t he come when I needed him? When I was still an angel? Why?” Linda stared as she saw his face shifting back again, burns giving way to healthy skin. She had to struggle to maintain a neutral expression. She had never seen him this unhinged... and that was _really_ saying something.  
  
“I can’t turn him away.” He choked, shaking his head, tears streaming down. “He needs me, and I can’t… but why me?” The firelight continued to dance disturbingly over his face and body, shifting him back and forth between the angel and the Devil. “He literally has all of Heaven at his beck and call… and he chose to seek out _me?_ Like maybe I’m not the _monster…_ but… he _abandoned_ me!” He was crying openly now, curling in and burying his face in his hands as the firelight kept playing games with him. 

Linda moved to the couch and rubbed reassuring circles on his back. It wasn’t proper therapist etiquette, but then… that was hardly a thing with Lucifer, anyway. Slowly, he took a quavering gasp and wiped his eyes, then everything settled back down. His face stopped flickering, and he looked at her with the saddest puppy eyes, and her heart broke for him… it wasn’t the first time she found herself emotionally compromised by this fallen angel, and she knew it wouldn’t be the last. Still, she needed to remain professional. Pulling back, she smiled encouragingly at him.  
  
“You can ask him some of these questions directly now that he’s here.” She began softly. “Until now, you had no way of knowing why. And not knowing can be painful, Lucifer. It’s okay to feel this way. It’s okay to want to help him, too. If I understand correctly, you two were close for a very long time. Feelings like that don’t just go away.” She looked at her client to see how he was responding. He smiled weakly, rubbing at his eyes and nose as he sniffed loudly.

“I... what if he... what if... he _hates_ me?” He pleaded hopelessly, a faraway look in his eyes.

“Then at least you will know.” Linda replied honestly. Lucifer sighed, sinking into the couch, quiet.

After a minute of this, Linda broke the silence. “You said he’s holding a pillow like he wants to keep it safe…” She thought out loud. “So he’s still asleep?”   
  
Lucifer snorted. “Lazy sod doesn’t seem to be interested in waking up.” he huffed. “but…” Standing he motioned for Linda to follow, and he led her back to the guest room.  
  
Sure enough, Michael lay curled in tightly on his side. His arms were wrapped around a pillow like it was a precious fragile thing. He was inhaling with harsh desperate gasps and exhaling with stuttering long breaths, eyes screwed shut and hands trembled.  
  
Overcome by a desire to help, Linda took a step forward, instinctively reaching out a hand to place it on his shoulder. But the moment her hand came in contact with him, he flinched, eyes screwing more tightly shut, face burying into the pillow in fear, and body clenching and curling in even more tightly. His breath caught and for a terrifying few seconds, he didn’t breathe at all, he merely trembled. 

Linda pulled back, concern morphing into horror on his behalf. He needed serious help… and she already knew she was not qualified… Her mind started to race through all the reading and research she was going to need to do. As she stepped back, Lucifer sat on the bed at his side and ran his fingers through his twin’s riotous curls, a tender, gentle air about him that was anything but monstrous. “You’re safe, Mī.” He breathed softly, eyes misted, and just like that, Michael relaxed, breaths evening out and body growing lax again.  
  
Taking a steadying breath for herself, she looked at Lucifer, whose eyes met hers, confused and desperate. “Well… I can’t say I know why everything happened between you two, but it’s plain to see he doesn’t hate you… and…” She faltered as she felt hot tears brimming in her eyes, and she found herself removing her glasses to dab at them. “…I think… it seems he isn’t rejecting you either.”  
  
Lucifer chuffed, a sound that wasn’t a sob or a laughed, but was also sort of both. “It appears not.”

_**Song title:**_ [Faraway](https://youtu.be/AZb69irensI) by Breaking Benjamin and Scooter Ward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Luci is singing in this is the same as the song title. Quintessential song for the twins.
> 
> Ella’s ‘fowl’ Spanish translated:  
“Son of a thousand whores! I hope you get fucked by a fish!” 😶
> 
> Yay for Maze! (just barely missing Sandi twice now)🙄  
Ella = Mad Scientist.🤣  
Yay for Linda! 🙂 She’s got a lot of work ahead of her. 😢  
Luci and Mi need hugs.🥺🥺
> 
> I love comments and feedback!  
❤️❤️❤️


	24. Discovering God

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan is in for a shock

“I’ve got another one! How long is Cain going to keep hating his brother?” Adisa asked from behind. Dan groaned. He stopped what he was doing and looked at his hiking companion, bracing himself for the inevitable eye roll. Adisa smirked at him.

“I don’t know, man? How long?” He exasperated.

Mr. Rich Guy’s grin spread. “As long as he is Able.” Yep. Dan rolled his eyes so hard it hurt, dropping his head into his hand. The one not holding a machete. Adisa chuckled delightedly and started walking again, an extra bounce in his step.  
  
How did he get himself into this mess? Dan sighed as he traipsed through the woods, clearing a path through blackberry bramble for the rather too fashionably dressed South African eccentric - probable mad man - with too much money and a God complex, who seemed far too amused with himself as he let loose an ungodly string of Dad jokes. Of course, he knew the answer to that. He asked Chloe to take over with Trixie, then he asked the lieutenant for time off, made plans to meet Fisher, booked a flight, arrived, had lunch with Fisher (a very likable older man), and picked up Elohim Adisa at the airport when his flight came in shortly after.  
  
Adisa had been easy to spot. The man wore a white dress shirt with navy blue, turquoise, and flame orange dots artfully patterned down from the left shoulder to the center of the bottom of the shirt, and matching navy blue dress pants. Creamy coffee skin, shoulder length braids, and a necklace with turquoise, obsidian, and amber beads ending at a silver arrowhead pendant with a gold tip and a unique looking alpha and omega symbol carved out of the center completed the look. Not what he expected from a God impersonator. He looked more ‘cool fashion designer’ and less ‘father figure,’ but what he lacked in appearance, he more than made up for in mannerisms. And Dad jokes.  
  
The plan had been simple. Play the part of an enthusiast/historian, ask questions, see if there were any useful leads to be divulged from the lunatic, while trying to find out if he was somehow connected to what had happened to Michael, then, in all likelihood, ditch the guy to go crashing through the bushes on his own. Or book him if he was somehow guilty. 

Either way, he didn’t need a nut-job tagging along while he was questing for the Archangel Michael’s sword. Nope. And there was no doubt in his mind this Elohim was, indeed, a nut-job. After all, he asked an angel and the Devil himself, and both Amenadiel and Lucifer had laughed in response.   
  
Okay, honestly, he only asked Amenadiel, but of course, Lucifer had overheard the query, as well as Amenadiel’s simple reply that, _“No, he couldn’t possibly be the real thing.”_ So the overly loquacious man - _celestial being _\- naturally felt obliged to chime in.  
  
_“Oh, if you see ‘Dad’ tell him Nietzsche says ‘hi!’ Not that Nietzsche is in Hell, mind you, or that you’ll be meeting Dear Old Dad… at most, it’s another case of God Johnson. But look on the bright side, Nutters with delusions of grandeur are fun.” _

Dan had been half inclined to point out that until the day before, he had thought _Lucifer_ was a ‘Nutter with delusions of grandeur’ but he still wasn’t ready to be all chummy with Satan yet. 

It had been so much easier to accept things when he was just around Michael. Must have been that ‘_goodness_ mojo’ Maze was talking about. Lucifer’s mojo was… definitely _not _goodness, and it definitely didn’t help.  
  
But crazy or not, Elohim was proving difficult to get information from. And he kept eyeing him like he thought he was the funniest thing since the invention of Dad jokes. Even more frustrating, he kept insisting that he make the journey into the woods on his own. Mr. Crazy-Rich-Foreigner was going to get himself lost or killed going at it alone, and Dan couldn’t, in good conscience, part ways with him knowing that. So in the end, Fisher took them both to a_ Dick’s Sporting Goods,_ where they loaded up on supplies, and dropped them off by the side of the road together. 

So here they were, crashing through the bushes, making their way to a mysterious... whatever was out there - Elohim insisted it was a mansion - to find a celestial blade.  
  
“Really, my son, there is no need for you to attend to me. I’m quite capable of dealing with bramble on my own.” Elohim insisted for the fiftieth time as Dan proceeded to hack a bunch of thicket out of the way.  
  
“It’s no trouble. I kinda like swinging the machete around.” He remarked truthfully before going at the bushes again, swinging with gusto.  
  
“Truly, you are going to wear yourself out.” He sighed behind him, then after a few steps, he continued. “And if you don’t mind my asking, why are you so interested in the sword? I would appreciate a truthful answer, this time.” Dan paused to look at him, a little embarrassed about being called out like that. Elohim had a patient, somewhat entertained look on his face. Dan shrugged nervously, trying to decide what kind of response to give.  
  
“I’m acquiring it for a...” He hesitated, uncertain. “...for a friend.” Then, as he started chopping away again, he muttered under his breath, “a friend with glowing blue eyes and super strength.” He had barely whispered it, and over the sound of his whacking, he thought it would go unheard.  
  
His travel companion came to an abrupt stop. “Mīkha’el?” He exclaimed. Dan froze. _No, it didn’t mean anything._ The crazy man just made a good guess. Then he spoke again. “Be honest with me, Detective Espinoza. Have you seen my son?” His voice was urgent.  
  
Dan’s heart skipped a beat. He never told the man who he was. Slowly turning to face the seemingly human hiking companion behind him, he saw Elohim looking at him with a _powerful _intensity. “How... how do you know my name?” He gulped.  
  
Elohim eyed him with a mix of annoyance and mirth. The expression felt strangely familiar. Where had Dan seen that look before? _Lucifer. _He’d seen that look on Lucifer - every time someone assumed he was speaking in metaphors.  
  
“Really, you humans have such a hard time with these things, I must say.” He shook his head. “I know more than that, my son. I can see your soul is good and kind, but you’ve also been wrestling with an inner darkness for years, and now you are weighted with a great deal of guilt.” He elaborated. “I also know you had a child with my _miracle;_ Chloe Decker.”  
  
_Nope,_ Dan’s brain thought. _I’m out._  
  
***  
  
“Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God! OhGodohGodohGodohGod...”  
  
God looked at Detective Espinoza with equal parts amusement and sympathy. “Yes, my son, I’m right here.” He said, smiling benevolently. The human gaped for a moment before continuing.  
  
“OHGOD! OHGOD! OHGOD! OHGODOHGODOHGODOHGOD!!!” Now he was clearly hyperventilating. His eyes were bugging out, and sweat was starting to bead on his forehead.   
  
He could almost hear Samael in his head berating him for poor design, as he so often did. His son thought He never listened. He listened. He just didn’t deem to answer His pouting child every time he bellyached about something - which was far more often than said child was likely to ever admit.  
  
The Creator approached the man who was falling apart in front of Him. “You need to breathe, Detective Espinoza, let me help.”   
  
At the mention of his name, Daniel stopped babbling for a moment, as his eyes grew even bigger. “You really _do_ know who I am.”

Then his brain seemed to short circuit even more. 

“Ofcourseyoudoyouknoweverything!!! ohmyGodohmyGodohmyGod...”  
  
Elohim placed His hand on the broken human’s head, and for a brief moment, the man started to pull back in terror, when a sudden wave of calm washed over him. The Father of Creation focused on settling the man’s hyperactive amygdala and quieting the misfiring synapses that had been telling the human body it was in pain and causing adrenaline to flood his system. It was an easy fix, and before long, Daniel was staring at Him, serenely in awe.  
  
“What did you do to me?” He wondered, bringing his hand to his forehead where he had been touched, a reverent look in his eyes.  
  
“I stopped your brain from panicking. It wouldn’t do for you to have an awakening only to run off into the woods in a panic and get yourself killed. Especially with you being burdened by guilt as you are now. It would sadden me to see you end up in Samael’s realm.” God explained simply.  
  
Daniel Espinoza blinked, processing what was said, and Elohim worried that He may have broken him again. Then he started to laugh, a high pitched, slightly insane, somewhat nervous, hysterical laugh. “Lucifer’s name is... _was_ Samael? Do you ever call him Sam?” He was gasping for breath. Adisa’s brow furrowed and He tilted His head. _This _was what the human chose to fixate on? “Because I’m totally gonna call him that next time he steals my pudding!” The surprising man guffawed. “He’s gonna _hate_ it!” More hysterical laughing.  
  
Now it was God’s turn to gape. “You’re familiar with both twins?” He asked, perplexed. Yes, He knew that Daniel was connected with Chloe Decker, but surely, they had long since parted ways before Samael came into the picture. Their relationship was - sadly - doomed from the start.  
  
The detective stopped laughing and suddenly grew very confused. “Don’t you already know?!” He gaped in bewilderment as he slumped, bonelessly onto the mossy ground, apparently floored by the notion that He might not actually have all the answers.  
  
The Lord sighed and sat down next to him, shrugging and smiling patiently, as the human stared at Him, processing. He deliberated for a moment, wondering if it was wise to be completely forthcoming with the human, before deciding he could probably be trusted. “Well, normally I’m a tad bit more... well informed, but the part of me that is capable of knowing whatever is needed has been locked up in here for approximately eight years, now.” He pulled out the medallion wrapped in gold silk from His pant pocket and uncovered it for the human to see. As the sky was overcast, it didn’t light up. That was probably a good thing.  
  
Daniel took it in his hand and breathed in deep as the feeling of tranquility and significance washed over him. Elohim lifted a hand, ready to fix him again, as he would no doubt be overcome by it as all the others had been. But then, after a moment, Daniel blinked back tears and smiled at Him as he handed it back. “Is that what Heaven feels like?” God nodded, pleased and impressed to see the medallion hadn’t whammied the man’s brain after all. “Charlotte is there. If that’s what she’s feeling, then I guess her being gone isn’t so bad.”  
  
Understanding started to weigh in. Now the guilt made sense. “If she is in the Silver City, then she is happy. And if you want to be reunited with her, you will have to learn to let go of the blame you have placed upon yourself, my son.” He advised, placing a gentle hand on the man’s shoulder, even as He pocketed the medallion again. “I have faith in you. There lies within you a remarkable amount of inner strength.” The detective looked at him disbelievingly.  
  
“_You _have faith in _me?_ Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around?” He laughed, even as a single tear fell from his eye.   
  
“Your faith in me is optional. One of the perks of freewill. But I do. Yes. I have faith in humanity as a whole, and in the individuals who remind me every day why I love your species so dearly.” Then, grinning playfully, he added on, “almost as much as I have come to love cats.”  
  
_“Cats?!?”_ Daniel straightened up, surprised, confused, and overwhelmed all over again.  
  
“Yes!” God declared. “During my vacation here on Earth, I’ve discovered how delightful they are from the numerous videos of them available online.” He chuckled.  
  
“Oh my Go... _You! _You have _got _to be kidding me!” The human balked. “You’re telling me that you, the Creator of the Universe, decided to take a vacation and pretend to be human... and you got hooked on _cat videos???”_  
  
God leaned back against a tree, pleased with having lightened the mood. They could talk about everything else later. They were, after all, on an estimated three hour hike, and at the pace they were going, it was likely to take even longer to reach their destination. Which meant they would have to set up camp. It was nice to break the ice first. Finding out what the human knew about Mîchael could wait a few minutes more. Elohim was nothing if not patient. “Well not just cat videos. I find human cinema to be quite enjoyable as well. Take, for example, the _Body Bags_ series. A real work of art, in my opinion.” He decreed happily.   
  
“Holy... _wow!_ Yes! I _love_ those movies! I even skipped out on some of my wedding planning for number 6.” The human exalted. Elohim knew this already. He remembered how upset Chloe Decker had been at the time, but He shrugged the thought aside.  
  
“Wonderful movie, that one. And it had a better catchphrase too.” The Creator grinned even as the detective screwed up his face, preparing to make the quote.  
  
“Not on my watch.” They both said as one, before laughing and grinning like school boys.   
  
“Love it.” God praised, beaming happily. Daniel grinned back.  
  
Then a sudden wave of confusion washed over the human again, and Daniel grew very serious as he took the celestial being next to him in with a befuddled look. “Um... don’t take this the wrong way, but I just had the craziest case of Deja vu. I swear I had this exact conversation with... _Lucifer_...” He blinked disbelievingly.  
  
Elohim just continued to grin. “Ah, yes, Samael has _always_ had excellent taste.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update: Huzzah! 666 kudos! 😈
> 
> Elohim: Dad jokes! 🤣  
Dan: 🙄 Let’s go, Crazy Guy.  
Elohim: Ok Dan! I can see into your soul! 😜  
Dan: 😱😱😱😱😱😱😱  
Elohim: I fixit! 😉  
Dan: 😶  
Elohim: I come in peace. 👽😉  
Dan: 😶  
Elohim: and I like cat videos. 😺  
Dan: You’re insane: 😩  
Elohim: and I like the Body Bags movies. 🍿  
Dan: Me too! 😃
> 
> Next chapter is a continuation for these two.  
I know you all want Mi and Luci...  
but I’m evil, and I’m making you wait. 😈


	25. Here Comes the Thunder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan is in for another shock... well, actually, the bad guys are in for a shock.

The sky was turning the livid color of an old bruise and the clouds were starting to drip with very unwelcome rainfall. Dan was not a fan of Washingtonian climate. It turned out that Elohim - _God_ \- was right about hacking away at blackberry bushes too, because his arms and neck were sore. At some point along their trek, his hiking companion, having noticed him wearying, pretty much ordered him to put the machete away and hand over the backpack containing their gear.   
  
He knew they were getting close, but as twilight approached, he was starting to think that maybe it was time to set up camp. His feet were tired, and it boggled his mind to think that Michael may have come this way. Injured.

After his mind-melting revelation earlier, and a moment to recollect, they had decided that the best thing to do would be to continue. They were, after all, an hour in by that point. Might as well at least see what they were dealing with. Unfortunately, calling the others was out. No cell signal, but they could always do that when they got back in range. Dan was proud to admit he only lost his mind once more on the way... which Elohim had fixed. And they were even connecting.

Lucifer’s Dad was actually an okay guy. And the animosity was entirely one-sided. Who knew? That bit about being the favorite son? Apparently true. Well, sort of. But the bit about God being a harsh, judgmental, wrathful entity? Dan didn’t see it.  
  
“Alright, Daniel, it’s your turn to ask something.” The deity next to him stated, as He took a bite from a granola bar. The two had been taking turns asking questions for the last couple hours. Elohim wanted to know how “Samael” and Amenadiel had been fairing, about his grandson - which he had been surprised to learn about, and about Chloe. He also, for obvious reasons, wanted to know about Michael. Dan, well, he had questions about everything.  
  
Stopping to catch his breath, Dan looked around to see if he could spot a good place to set up camp as he considered his options. “Okay, I’ve got one.” The Creator looked at him expectantly. “What happens to people who believe in the wrong God? Or, you know, are atheists?”  
  
God laughed at this, and Dan sighed. It seemed like a good question to him. “There is no such thing as the wrong God. There is only me.” He chuckled.  
  
“So, you don’t care? At all? What if people worship, I don’t know... Zeus?” Dan asked.   
  
“I do care, actually. I want for people to find something they can believe in. It doesn’t matter _what _you believe, as long as it gives you the strength to be the best version of yourself in the face of adversity.” He took another bite of his bar, shrugging. “If that means worshipping a minor lightning deity, it’s no concern of mine.” He stated. Dan stared, mind reeling. Now he had even _more _questions! “Now, for my next question: Do you consider yourself Samael’s friend?” He started to walk again, and Dan scurried to keep pace, more thrown off by this question than he felt he should be.  
  
“I... um...” Did he? He really wanted to say ‘no,’ because the dick was utterly insufferable... but... “Well, I did. For a bit, but then I screwed up. After Charlotte died, I um... kinda blamed him. If I was him, I would hate me by now. Maybe he does. He calls me Detective Douche...” He stopped to see how Lucifer’s dad was responding to this when he noticed the other man’s... err... _God’s_ attention was focused on a patch of forest in front of them.  
  
“It seems we have arrived.” Elohim whispered, pointing.  
  
Dan’s eyes followed were the long finger pointed to see a patch of light trickling through the trees. Suddenly, he was wondering if it was such a good idea to be there after all. They had no idea what to expect. Maze had mentioned zombies... and...  
  
“Are you having second thoughts, Daniel?” God asked sympathetically. “You may stay back if you wish. I do not intend to put you in harm’s way.” There was something unfathomably ancient about the look in his eyes as he lowered the pack, leaning it against a tree. Dan’s gun was in that pack. He considered grabbing it, but decided against it. This was a recon mission. He wouldn’t need it, right?  
  
“No... Just nervous.” Dan replied, starting to edge closer. His travel companion started to creep forward as well... less effectively than him.  
  
The sound of a twig snapping under the other’s foot had both cringing. “It seems I am not good at sneaking up on people.” He whispered, and Dan found himself sighing.  
  
“Slide your feet lower to the ground so you can feel if there is anything there.” He suggested.  
  
After several painful minutes of very noisy creeping, they reached the edge of the bramble and dared to peek through the brush to see a wire fence, and beyond that, a pristine lawn, sculpted shrubs, a fountain centerpiece, dainty trees, and yep: a mansion.  
  
The structure had a distinctly Roman feel to it. White pillars, and all.  
  
It was also crawling with people. A gardener was gathering tools from trimming the hedge and heading in, a maid seemed to be hauling out a large bag of refuse, and a group of what looked like soldiers were standing at attention by the main entrance, which was just off to the side from their vantage point. Dan and God shared a bewildered look, before turning their attention back to the scene before them.  
  
“I guess I could COMMAND them to let us in... but I would loath to do so.” God whispered, looking mildly frustrated.  
  
Dan gaped at him, perplexed by his comment, but before he could form a question they spotted someone emerging from the building. Someone who was definitely not human. Someone who looked like a cross between Dwayne the Rock Johnson and Jason Momoa. Someone with thick dark hair pulled back into a full pony and expressive eyebrows. Someone with massive grey and white wings with black tips. Like the wings of an enormous seabird.   
  
“I have decided to harvest the feathers.” They heard him saying in a deep throaty voice to another being following him out of the building.  
  
“Are you sure about that?” The other, a mostly ordinary looking man asked, and Dan suddenly felt a chill. This guy was missing a giant chunk from his neck, rotting blackened flesh marring the area.  
  
The angel smiled at the zombie sadly. “Yes, we already have one set of wings, and they are pristine. This second, unexpected set is, regrettably, beyond salvation, so we might as well put the wings to use. Their divinity should go a long way toward restoring you and the others. Farther even than our failed experiments had.”  
  
Dan looked at Elohim, hoping to gain a clue as to what they were seeing, but all he could ascertain from his glance was that God was angry. Terrifyingly angry. The air around him seemed thick and the clouds overhead seemed to be collecting and swirling above them.  
  
Oh, shit.  
  
“Thank you, boss.” The monster bowed, gratefully.  
  
“Yes, well, it seems our escapee has proven to be even more valuable than initially thought. All the more reason to get him back.” The angel replied.  
  
Suddenly, the deafening sound of thunder ripped the air asunder as lightning came down from the sky, lancing across the yard and tearing into the building’s steps. The workers went into a panic as they dashed to get inside, and Dan found himself falling on his hindquarters to stare disbelievingly at God, whose human face was a mask of fury.  
  
“Um...” He tried. Then glancing back, he noticed that the angel was looking directly at them... or directly at where they were hiding, at least, his eyes focused and intense. And an ever growing number of zombies were quickly gathering around him.   
  
The strange angel pointed an accusing finger in their direction and suddenly, the monsters were coming their way. Thinking fast, Dan grabbed the angry deity and yanked him away from where they were hiding, taking off to find cover, and diving into a patch of particularly nasty thicket.  
  
He felt the bush tearing at his clothes and ripping into his skin as the rain fall pelted him and the mud squelched up around his knees and hands as they ducked down. Adisa’s eyes were no longer fuming, and he looked more surprised... and sheepish even... than anything else as the area they had just been at was overrun by the creatures.  
  
Fortunately for them, the idiots were trampling over their footprints, obscuring their escape route. Dan’s heart was pounding furiously, and it took every ounce of his training to keep his breathing even and quiet. This was bad, and he found himself glaring at the daft celestial next to him in frustration. He wasn’t sure if he wanted Him to mess with the weather more or not. His aim wasn’t all that precise, and all it seemed to do was give them away.  
  
As the creatures fanned out to look for them, Dan pushed Elohim down into the mud further, and surprisingly, He didn’t protest. His stylish clothes were officially ruined now. Lucifer would have thrown a hissy fit. Dan too, sank down, holding still as the creatures scoured the area for them.  
  
After what felt like an eternity, the angel called them back, having apparently assumed their target had vanished. Dan didn’t dare move. 

“Bandile Adisa, I wonder?” He called out to no direction in particular. “Father, is that you?” He ventured again.   
  
No one answered.  
  
“Fine. Greet me with silence.” He snarled up to the sky. “It seems to be your favorite method of communicating anyway, Old Man.” He sneered, wings fanning out aggressively. Then, after one more look around, and what looked like a quick prayer, he raised his massive wings and with a mighty downward thrust, he was gone.  
  
***  
  
Zerachiel raged as he flew back to LA. He was sure that Father had been there… he could have _sworn_ he saw something in the bushes. He hadn’t been able to sense His divine presence anywhere, but he _knew _the old bastard was out there. There was no way that sudden lightning strike was a coincidence. He didn’t _believe_ in coincidences. No son or daughter of God did.  
  
He wasn’t much of a tracker, though. He needed Sandalphon back. But when he had put his hands together in prayer to summon him, his brother informed him that he would need a pick up. Apparently, the demon had broken one of his wings in their scuffle. And for some ridiculous reason, he sounded pleased about it. Zerachiel would never understand his youngest brother. 

Never.  
  
As he landed on the sandy beach at the edge of the city he took a quick look around to confirm there were no humans. Seeing the beach empty, he sent word to his brother, telling him where to meet. Then, settling down into the cool sand, he waited, watching the ocean under the light of the moon. His mind started to drift, and he found himself reflecting on how everything had started. 

It had been because of Lucifer. He was the first to see through Father’s manipulations, and his revelation had created tidal waves throughout the Silver City. Zerachiel, like so many others, had been charmed by the message of the Lightbringer.   
  
Freewill. 

Before long, what had started as an innocent idea coalesced into a battle cry, resounding throughout the Heavens, shouted from the lips of angels willing to risk everything for it. And they had come so close to achieving their goal.  
  
Until Mîchael...

As much as Zerachiel had wanted freewill, he had always known that without Lucifer’s golden twin, they had no chance. He remembered trying to warn the Lightbringer, but Lucifer wouldn’t hear it.  
  
_“Mī is not a threat. He would never hurt me.” _

How Zerachiel wished that had been true. He remembered trying to convey the urgency, their conversation vivid in his memories as if it had been yesterday.  
  
_“He is the Defender of Heaven. When the fighting starts, he will not be able to remain impartial.” Lucifer had not wanted to hear it. He looked away as Zerachiel spoke, his gleaming feathers puffing up in agitation.  
  
“I will talk to him.”  
  
“What if Father’s influence over him is too great? What if he hasn’t the freedom to side with us?”  
  
Lucifer suddenly turned on him, grabbing the larger angel by his robes and drawing him in close as if he were nothing more than a rag doll. His eyes flashed with fire, and Zerachiel felt a tremor of fear at the sudden outburst. “If I can defy Father, so can Mī.” He snarled. Zerachiel pulled back in alarm. And both were quiet after this, until Lucifer, having been lost in thought, smiled sadly - and apologetically - at him. “I… I suppose I could lead him away from the battle. He won’t have to fight if he isn’t around.” _

Zerachiel had been doubtful, though. He knew what being COMMANDED did to people. As the ‘Command of God,’ he had used his gift to take choice away from others on many occasions. Willpower was meaningless when it was absent.  
  
It wasn’t long after their conversation that the resistance broke into a full-on rebellion. The battle had been sudden and violent. Angels falling left and right, killed by weapons designed to banish their souls from creation. He remembered how uncoordinated the opposition had been. Gabriel tried to take command when Mîchael couldn’t be found, but he made a better combatant than commander, and without Mîchael, the loyalists had no chance. But, as history recounts, that hadn’t lasted.   
  
_A sound somewhere between thunder and shaking ground tore across the skies, and suddenly the twins appeared in a flash of light. Both had their swords drawn, alight with fire. Blue flames met with orange and sparks erupted with every impact.  
  
The fighting came to a stop as all eyes fell upon the two. No one had ever seen them fighting. Many believed it wasn’t possible. Yet there they were, and Zerachiel knew right away, the battle was lost. Lucifer wasn’t fighting back. He was defending himself, not attacking. But Mîchael...  
  
His eyes were devoid of any feeling at all. It was like he was a completely different person. And Zerachiel had good reason to believe that may actually be the case.   
  
Father.   
  
It didn’t take long before the battle picked up again, with the rebels rushing to Lucifer’s aid, but Zerachiel fell back as the fighting moved away, making himself scarce, an idea coming to him. An insane, desperate, wonderful idea. He had heard the rumors... and the way they came into the battlefield... it had almost seemed like they materialized from nothingness... Bringing his hands together in prayer, he reached out to the others, spread across creation, battling on multiple fronts.  
  
“The Lightbringer and the Warrior are fighting. Lucifer is lost. But I may have found a way to keep the resistance alive. Meet me here if you can.”  
  
As the skies grew still, he flew up to the spot the two had emerged from. Tentatively, he reached out, but nothing happened. Not willing to give up, he kept trying, flying to slightly different locations, and reaching out again and again.  
  
Sandalphon was the only one to make it to him as he searched.  
  
“We should leave, they’re not far...” His fellow general was saying, when creation shifted all around him, and Zerachiel was suddenly no longer in Father’s realm. He was flying over a devastated world on fire. That was when he knew._

_It was true. _

_The twins had succeeded in making their own reality, free from Father’s influence. And he had found it. He had found a place where the ‘Almighty’ was not present. Its mere existence was all the proof he needed to confirm his suspicions. _

_Father had allowed the war. _

_He needed to find a way to separate Mîchael and Lucifer. Because together, they possessed a power that could rival His. And He would not allow it. Countless angels had perished, all because Father was not willing to be challenged by His two brightest sons. _

_The doorway was small, but once he found his way out again, he led Sandalphon in. And just like that, it was as if they vanished from reality. _

It hadn’t been easy to figure out how to relocate the doorway, but once they had done so, they had a secret universe all their own. No one ever found them, and it was assumed they had been destroyed. 

They were Free. 

And they would not rest until they freed the rest of their siblings. It would be a long time before the opportunity came, but when Uriel handed Mîchael to him, he finally had a path to victory. And, of course, Father, who had been absent until now, was suddenly back in the picture. Trying to ruin everything. But this time, it would be different. This time, they would be victorious.  
  
The sound of footsteps pulled him from his thoughts and he turned to see Sandalphon looking down at him quizzically. Zerachiel stood and brushed sand from his pants.  
  
“Why am I here instead of hunting our quarry?” He asked, in all seriousness as he took Zerachiel in.  
  
“Believe it or not, Mîchael can wait. We have bigger fish to fry.” Zerachiel replied, grinning viciously. Oh, things would definitely be different this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Easter egg! The opening line in this was adapted from a line in the Sandman comics, which, as some of you know, is the origin of Lucifer’s character. All praise the mighty Neil Gaiman. 🙏🏻
> 
> Easter eggs again! ‘Minor deities’ like Zeus are totally a thing in the comics. 🤣 
> 
> Sooo... Zerachiel... nice guy, right? Definitely no Daddy issues. Definitely not in denial. 
> 
> Comments, theorizing, predictions, questions, and feedback always appreciated! ❤️


	26. Welcome Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe needs Lucifer. Misbehavior is inevitable. Warning: mild fan service.  
Dan and Elohim talk

Lucifer breathed in deeply, welcoming in the scene before him as he stood at the threshold, and he found himself fretting over his suit, making sure everything was perfect one more time before entering. He had even opted for a vest to go with his ensemble for the day.  
  
As he came to the top of the steps leading into the LAPD Bullpen, he ramped up his charm and smiled invitingly at everyone as they turned to look his way, drawn by his presence, but also something more. Why, they were all genuinely happy to see him! 

“Well, hello darlings, did you miss me?” He purred as officers gathered around him. The consultant maneuvered through various conversations, mingling and meandering, greeting people by name, and asking about hobbies and life events. They in turn, filled him in on everything he had missed out on over the last year and a half, all the while, peppering him with questions. 

Where had he gone? Why hadn’t he called? Was he staying? And only mildly surprising, was Michael okay? And, “Why didn’t you tell us you have a twin?” He did his best to answer their questions… without going into it too much. The Detective glanced over at him once with a fond smirk.  
  
Without even meaning to, he found himself in the break room, and the first thing he did was open the fridge to see that Daniel still had pudding cups in there. Grinning, he grabbed a couple. Then he made his way over to the vending machine, still chatting it up with his admirers Sighing hungrily, he looked at the Cool Ranch Puffs behind the glass and reached into his jacket to retrieve his bill fold, only to find that yet again, he forgot to include small bills.  
  
“Anyone have change for a hundred?” He queried.  
  
“Why don’t you just do that thing with the lock?” Pam from Missing Persons chimed in. He looked around at the others and grinned wolfishly to see that they all wanted him to do it. Shrugging, and more than happy to appease them all, he bent down, jostled it a bit, and opened it up. As he grabbed the puffs, he heard his Detective sighing.  
  
“Are you guys actually encouraging him?” She exasperated, coming over to grab him by his sleeve and lead him away.  
  
“Detective?!” He whined as he tossed the hundred at Pam for her to figure out what to do with it. “I hadn’t paid yet.”  
  
“When you leave a hundred in the vending machine, you’re not paying, you’re just leaving money for a random officer to extract at their whim.” She pointed out, shaking her head.  
  
“Well, that explains why they wanted me to do it, now doesn’t it?” He chuckled as he opened his stolen goods and started in on them, making a sinful moan of pleasure the moment the flavor hit. Feeling appreciative and benevolent, he sent Amenadiel and Miss Lopez a group text, thanking them for stepping in to watch Mī so he could be there.

😈🤤🙏🏻

The Detective had called him earlier, while he was caught up in a bout of self-pity and emotional turmoil after finding that his twin was _still_ visiting dreamland, and showing no signs of waking. He wasn’t sure if his eagerness to help was more from a desire to be with her, or from a desperate need for distractions. Either way, he immediately followed up by contacting Miss Lopez and Amenadiel, asking them to stand in. Then, after making them promise to notify him the _instant_ his twin woke up, he started getting ready.  
  
“This is the case Dan was on. The one assigned to me. The one about…” she leaned in close, whispering, “Michael.” Her words pulled him from his thoughts, as she slid the file over to him.  
  
“Right.” He said, setting his snacks down and opening it.   
  
As he looked at the photos, she slid another file over. “And this is what I was able to figure out while up North.” She added on. This was why he had come in. The Detective needed an expert take on all of it. And most likely, she needed a good story to explain the celestial craziness.  
  
He looked at the first file. The pictures were very telling. Plants sprouting everywhere… busted roof… blast shadows… Miss Lopez and Daniel had found His Mī there, wings cut off and hiding in the storage closet. No wonder the Detective needed help. This all made sense to him, but to a human? Then he noticed another picture. The one of the body that hadn’t been annihilated.  
  
“No…”  
  
“What?” Chloe asked, leaning in. “Is it a demon?”  
  
Lucifer shook his head. “He was one of mine!” He whispered harshly.  
  
“What?” She demanded again, and before she knew it, he was leading her into an empty interrogation room and closing the door so he could speak more freely.  
  
“Before the rebellion… I had my own legion of angels. He was one.” Lucifer explained, shaking his head. Chloe stared at him, then looked at the picture.  
  
“But he doesn’t look like…”  
  
“Yes, well, that’s bloody self-actualization, for you.” He remarked. “But he was supposed to be dead.” His Detective stared at him.  
  
“But… when you die, you come back, right?” She asked, thoroughly confused, and seemingly lost in a sea of questions.  
  
Taking a breath, he pulled out his flask and helped himself to a generous sip, then he squared his shoulders and launched himself into a rather convoluted attempt to explain.  
  
“Yes. Angels can come back. Sometimes.” “Sometimes? Like... when Malcolm shot you?” “Dad brought me back.” “So someone brought this guy back, too?” “Not sure how...” “Why?” “During the rebellion, we used weapons that banish souls from creation.” “That’s a thing?” “Indeed. Supposed to be no way back.”

Then she asked about the crime scene.  
  
“Oh, Mī smote the bad guys.” “What? How?” “He calls it dematerializing.” “De-what???” “Like a... ah... controlled nuclear blast...” “Uhh you’re kidding, right?” “Well, he converts matter into energy.” “Oh, well, that’s... um... pure energy?” “Correct. He puts it in a pocket realm so he can use it later.” “So, he does this to people often?” “No, this is a first.”  
  
By the time they were done with fifty questions, the Detective looked like she needed a yearlong vacation. She rubbed her temples, and Lucifer huffed in frustration. 

After a contemplative silence from both, Chloe looked at him with a shrug and a half smile. “So… the angel… he was banished.”  
  
“Yes.” Lucifer sighed.  
  
“Are you sure he wasn’t possessed by a demon?”   
  
Lucifer grinned, amused by the idea of demons possessing angels. He could just imagine his siblings losing their minds over it. “No, demons can’t just walk into a long-dead body, and the soul would’ve needed to be in Hell, anyway.”  
  
“So, according to Maze, we have a rogue archangel and… and a bunch of angel zombies on the loose. Because, why not?” She started to laugh nervously.  
  
Lucifer scrunched his brow, thoroughly confused by her laughter. “I fail to see the humor in this, Detective.” Chloe sighed, and gave him an almost apologetic look.

“Sorry, I... it’s just... how is this my life, now?” She laughed again, then shaking her head, she turned to unlock the door and head out.  
  
Lucifer felt a flash of desire, as she turned, providing him a view of her delicious pert hindquarters, and suddenly, he realized they were essentially alone. In an interrogation room… “Ah… Detective?” He ventured, licking his lips.  
  
She turned to see him ogling her, immediately recognizing the gleam in his eyes, and smiling, she rolled hers. “No, Lucif…”  
  
“But this is a fantasy of mine!” He declared, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her in close. “We’re alone…”  
  
“At work.” She countered, blushing. He noticed she was leaning in as well, in spite of what she had hinted at. Gazing into her eyes, he brought his hand to her cheek, wrapping the other around the small of her back, and waited. The Detective smiled fondly at him and kissed him, soft and… bloody Hell, it was far too chaste!  
  
Lucifer whimpered at the absence as she pulled back, starting to turn away. “Please, Detective. What if this is the last chance we have for a while?” He noticed his words had an effect when her cheeks flushed and she looked at him with obvious want.  
  
“What exactly was this fantasy of yours?” She asked. It wasn’t a ‘yes’… not yet, but feeling encouraged, he grinned at her, as he leaned back on the interrogation table and spread himself out a bit. “You, on top of me, right here. Hand cuffs optional.” His grin grew when he saw her breathing pick up a notch. It was working. “I’m at your mercy and you get to have your wicked way with me.”  
  
Chloe glanced toward the door again, then back at him, drawing closer. She climbed up on the table to straddle him and kissed him more passionately. “That _is_ a tempting fantasy.” She whispered, pressing in closer. Lucifer felt a surge of glee coarse through him when he heard the sound of her handcuffs open with a telltale click, and suddenly, his blasted wings popped out with a whoosh.  
  
Lucifer groaned, “Blood Hell!” He straightened to put the annoying, misbehaving appendages away again, when Chloe stopped him short by leaning in. 

“Keep them out.” She crooned.  
  
“Detective?” He breathed in confusion.  
  
“It’s a fantasy of mine.”  
  
***  
  
It had been a long night, and an even longer morning, Dan thought as they crashed through the bramble. They had been skirting and hiding ever since the incident from the night before, trying in vain to make it to a place where they had cell signal, and somewhere along the way, they had gotten completely turned around. Now they were God only... well, He had no clue where, actually - without supplies.  
  
“So you _really_ didn’t realize you could manipulate the weather?” He asked, for probably the hundredth time. He was tired, and it looked like Adisa was spent too.  
  
“It’s the medallion. I can access my divinity while I’m close to it… but not all of it. So I’m not sure what I can and can’t do.” Then He grinned. “Not knowing is rather exciting, actually.” He laughed.  
  
“Well, bully for you.” Dan sighed, rolling his eyes. The way He seemed to revel in the strangest things reminded him of Lucifer, and he was struck again by how ironic that was. Falling into a sitting position, he pulled out his phone to see if he had signal yet, while his companion scanned the skies again.

Zero bars. Oh, and 18% battery. Great.  
  
“It’s unfortunate Raziel is implicated in all this.” Elohim remarked as He sat heavily against a tree, apparently satisfied that, for the moment, there was nothing out there.  
  
“Who?”  
  
“Angel of secrets. Normally, she’s such a good girl. I don’t know where this came from. But she can manipulate the flow of prayers, so, unfortunately, praying for back-up is out.” He shook his head, and Dan found himself bewildered to see that He looked more like a distressed parent than anything else. Elohim glanced his way. “Do you believe yourself to be an effective father?”  
  
Dan’s eyes widened. “I… um… I try to be.”  
  
Elohim seemed to understand that all too well. “So do I.” He replied. “Yours is not yet an adolescent, is she?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Well, let me tell you, it’s no fun when they want to grow up too quickly. When they start to rebel, and seek independence, and nothing you do makes much of a difference.” He sighed heavily and looked at Dan sadly. “They’re not happy when I help, and they blame me when I don’t. But when it comes down to it, I just want to keep them safe.” He leaned back against a tree, and His eyes slipped closed, exhausted and frustrated.  
  
Dan stared. Were angels adolescents to God? It would make sense. Lucifer certainly _acted_ immature more often than not. Man, if that was true, celestials took a _reeeeeeeally looooooong _time to grow up. Dan took the other in, seeing Him in a new way. He was covered in dried mud and bramble, clothes torn, and His back was slouched against the tree. And He was griping about misbehaving teenagers. He seemed so… _human. _But if humans were made in God’s image… All he knew for certain was that He was talking to Dan as an equal, one parent to another. So… he would respond in kind.  
  
“Trixie already has a rebellious streak. I worry all the time about her, but… whether we like it or not, eventually, we have to let them grow up. Even if we know they will make mistakes. It’s their life, after all. All we can do, really, is try to prepare them for the time when they head out on their own.” He offered. God looked at him with a fond smile. “I mean… human kids don’t have crazy powers that could destroy the world, so I guess I get it… but… you know…” He trailed off. Elohim nodded in agreement.  
  
“Quite right.” He replied good-naturedly. Then, He stood up, brushing His pants off ineffectively, and offered His hand to Dan, who took it, feeling a little like a farce of Michelangelo’s Adam in the Sistine Chapel. Elohim pulled him back onto his feet, and they started hiking again. They walked side by side for a bit, until he felt a sting in his neck. Great, bugs too, now?  
  
Reaching back, he swatted at whatever it was and was surprised to find something there. God looked at him, eyes growing wide, as Dan pulled a dart from his neck.  
  
“What..?” His eyes were growing heavy, and his limbs started to feel numb. As he slumped over, Elohim caught him and eased him down, and he was vaguely aware of Him startling and yanking something from His neck. That was funny. Why was He?  
  
A strange figure emerged, a tall dark figure with white hair. He was carrying a… dart rifle? Then there were more feet. He tried to stay focused, but the world was fading in and out, sound slipping in bursts…  
  
“You don’t seem like Father…” Someone was saying. …The others were grabbing his friend… …Someone was picking up his phone… “…no signal…”  
  
His vision blurred.  
  
He needed to stay awake, they had to… What were they doing again?  
  
Whatever… it could wait… he could finish it when he woke up. 

Why was the world so fuzzy?  
  
Someone else was there too now. Hey, look! Jason Momoa’s and the Rock’s, angelic love child! Dan giggled. “Hello, Father. You’ve been away for a bit. Welcome back.” He heard a voice saying...  
  
Oh, hey, how nice, they were welcoming them. That was thoughtful…  
  
Dan’s world faded to black. 

It felt nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Naughty Detective can’t resist. 😈  
Careful readers will be wondering about God bringing Luci back... seeing a possible timeline conflict. This is not a plot hole. It will make sense later. 🙂
> 
> God needs advice from Dan. 👍  
Oh, no! Bad guys! 😱  
But at least Dan can take a nap! 😴
> 
> Speaking of naps...  
Next chapter is gonna be dramatic.😏


	27. At the Edge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here’s the dramatic chapter I promised you.

What had at first been a strange notion was quickly becoming a familiar, and in a way, a welcome one. Lucifer’s guest room had never – not once – been used for something as mundane as sleeping, but now… 

Lucifer rubbed his eyes. He was still adjusting to the fact that he wasn’t in Hell. Waking up every morning in the Penthouse was still discombobulating. Waking up on Earth – knowing _Chloe_ was here – well, not _here,_ she was in her apartment, or the precinct, depending on what time it was when he woke – but here, on Earth. With him.  
  
It was an intoxicating thought.  
  
The idea tended to overwhelm him so much that he could almost forget about the elephant in the… sleeping in his guest room.  
  
Mîchael.  
  
His Mī... The vary same Mîchael who had driven his sword into him, who had cast him out of the Silver City and into Hell; whose last words to him in that moment had been, _“Don’t ever come back.” _  
  
He closed his eyes, and took a jagged breath as the scene replayed in his mind with excruciating detail. His twin’s face had held no expression when he said those cruel words. This, coming from Mîchael, who he knew felt things so deeply, had hurt… it had _burned_ him. More so than anything probably ever had.   
  
Unbidden, tears started to form in his eyes, and Lucifer laughed self depreciatingly at his own foolish weakness. 

Alone in Hell, rejected by all of Heaven, he wanted to hate Mîchael. And Dad knows, he had tried to. He remembered thinking that if even Mîchael hated him, he had to have been something truly… monstrous. Mī didn’t _HATE._ It had never been in him, but for eons, he had been so convinced that Mîchael _hated_ him.   
  
And for that, he despised himself.   
  
Lucifer needed a drink.  
  
He could already hear the Detective in his head, scolding him, telling him it was only – he checked his phone – 10:03 AM. Yawning sleepily, he padded his way over to the bar, wearing only his black and red silk robe and a pair of boxers. Setting aside his phone, he poured himself a tumbler of whisky. Then he made his way over to the guest room to check on Sleeping Beauty.  
  
This would be day three, and it had already become routine. Wake up. Get lost in thought. Become emotional. Pour a stiff drink or two. Check on Mîchael. Become emotional all over again. Scold himself for being so pathetic. Pour another drink or three. Check on Mîchael. Get emotional again while showering… He had an impromptu session with Linda on the first day, and yesterday, he got to spend time with the Detective at the precinct. He smiled at the memory and wondered what he would do next... besides wait for his Mī to wake up and finally tell him to sod off.  
  
Bracing himself for the inevitable onslaught of _feelings,_ he made his way over to the guest room and glanced in. Then his heart stopped. Only to start up again, pounding with a vengeance. 

The bed was _empty._ Mîchael wasn’t there. Where was he? Where was his Mī?  
  
Frantically, he rushed into the room, looking over the rumpled blankets as if staring at them would somehow make his missing brother materialize and everything would be fine. He looked all around the room, he checked the walk-in closet, and he was even considering looking under the bed. Calm down, this is ridiculous, he told himself. He needed to get a grip and stop acting like a panicked mother hen.  
  
Lucifer. Did. Not. Panic.  
  
If Mîchael had decided to leave, that was his choice. Of course, he left. Why would he stay with Lucifer? It was fine. This was fine. He was fine. Mîchael was a big angel – _archangel_ – and he could take care of himself.  
  
Except he couldn’t.  
  
Something had happened to him. Someone had hurt him, had _tortured_ him. And that someone was still out there. Probably looking for him. Lucifer had to think. He had to calm down and think. He had to figure this out.  
  
WWTDD, he reminded himself, repeating the mantra. What would the Detective do? She would start to look for leads right about now… of course! His Detective! Chloe would know what to do. She was smart, and she could fix this for him. 

Rushing out of the room, he made a mad dash for the bar, where he had left his phone, balanced on the edge of the counter. He had such a powerful singular focus as he made his way across the penthouse he almost missed it. Out of the corner of his eye, he registered that someone was on the balcony. He turned, and there he was. Almost unnoticeable, impossibly small looking.  
  
Mîchael sat in the corner of the balcony, pressed up against the glass, back turned to the world beyond. His knees were drawn up to his chest, arms wrapped around his legs, eyes closed, brow pinched, and mouth gasping in what looked like shallow wavering bursts. And his hands were trembling.  
  
Lucifer felt a pain building up in him, right below the collar bone, close to the heart. It felt like a hole was opening inside him, threatening to swallow him up. His brother looked so fragile, like a dying leaf, barely clinging to a tree. One moderate gust of wind would be all that was needed to rip him away and send him spiraling, and _Falling_ to Earth.   
  
Lucifer hated the idea of _Falling._  
  
But in that moment, it wasn’t he who was in danger of _Falling, _and the idea of his Mī _Falling_ off the edge was more than he could bare. Tentatively, he approached, worried that his unwanted presence would chase him away. Slowly, he opened the door to the balcony and felt the crisp fall morning air kiss his face, a mild, pleasant breeze playing with his hair. He stepped out and closed the door behind him, then sat down next to his brother, far enough away to not be imposing, but close enough to convey his intent to be there for him. If he wanted it.  
  
Taking a sip – more of a desperate gulp – of his whisky and setting the tumbler aside, he attempted to bridge the gap. With words. “So, three days, huh? That’s quite a beauty sleep.”  
  
Mîchael opened his eyes. Bloody Hell, there were tears in them, glistening and threatening to spill over. He glanced fleetingly at his twin before turning away, as if ashamed. That didn’t go so well, Lucifer thought. He wished he knew what to do. Floundering, he tried again.  
  
“Not that three days is of any consequence. Not to us.” He looked at his brother, and noticed his tense shoulders relax ever so slightly. This encouraged him to continue. “After the Detective saw my Devil face, I stayed in bed for a whole week, so three days is nothing, really.” Michael shifted slightly, and his hands even stopped trembling for a moment. Progress? Maybe. Lucifer took it as a sign that he needed to keep talking. “And there was this one time I stayed up for just as long without sleeping. That was interesting. I’d been worried I was sleep-flying, of all things, so I decided I didn’t need to sleep at all…” He knew he was rambling now, but it seemed to have a positive effect on Mîchael, so he kept at it.  
  
“Yes, I know, sleep isn’t even necessary in the Silver City, but here on Earth, we need to replenish ourselves somehow, and rest, it seems, is best. At least we don’t need to sleep as much as the humans here. I’ve read somewhere they need to spend a third of their lives asleep. Can you imagine? A whole bloody third of their already miserably short lives wasted in slumber! Someone really ought to slap Dad across his shiny face for poor design. I mean, really. They get, what, a pathetic 60 – 75 years? And they have to spend a third of it in bed. And not even doing anything fun while at it. Just sleeping!” He paused to look at his twin.  
  
Mîchael was staring at him. He looked like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His eyes were still moist, but the tears had subsided. His posture was less closed off as well, and his hands had become still. Lucifer smiled cautiously at him. Hopeful.   
  
“There you are.” He said, voice shaking. There were those ridiculous feelings again. This was hard. Sighing, he picked up his tumbler and downed the last of the whisky. Curses, he should have brought the bottle with him.  
  
Regarding his brother, Lucifer reached out his hand, stopping short before contacting him, and held it above his shoulder, as an offering. Mîchael lifted a tremulous hand up to his, and touched it, and in that moment something shifted in him.   
  
"You’re real…” His voice was painfully soft, a broken whisper, barely more than a thought.  
  
“Yes, Mī … I’m real.” He sighed, as his hand settled on his brother’s shoulder and his mind wandered back to the room he had found in Hell. It made him nauseous to imagine that someone had put his brother in there, and it broke his heart that Mîchael’s Hell Loop – a phrase he never thought he would use – was to watch Lucifer Fall. Over and over again. It made him furious and depressed all at once to realize that his twin had been plagued by guilt _all this time, _all because Dad didn’t have it in him to do his own dirty work.  
  
“You… you’re… y…” Mîchael struggled to put his thoughts into words as he fought to regain command of a voice that didn’t want to work. “I… I’m… So… s… s” He was trembling again, not just his hands now, but his very being, and his already unstable breaths were coming in desperate sobbing gasps. And the tears, which had a moment before been tamed, were now filling his eyes and spilling over, trickling down his cheeks.  
  
“I’m here, Mī.” Lucifer breathed out. 

Deciding distance was an obstacle, he grabbed his twin and pulled him in, enfolding him in his arms, and then, after a quick unfurling, his wings as well. His brother leaned in, his head resting on his chest, tears coming quicker now. He could feel their dampness where his robe parted, and it broke him all over again. They drew in to one another, and Lucifer held his brother as he wept and shook, feeling a sting in his own eyes. Safe in the cocoon of angelic wings, they stayed like this, and Lucifer held his brother so he could feel whatever he had to feel, knowing he was safe. 

“I’ve got you. I won’t let go.” He whispered reassuringly, as he felt a guilty pang of hope washing over him, glad to have his brother back in this moment, even if it was like this. Greedy to take what he could get, and feeling rotten for it.

Memories started to flood the fallen angel as he held his brother. His Mī had never let anyone else see this side of him back then. He would lock his feelings up tight until they were alone, but when Samael held him, he would let himself cry. When they learned what mortality meant, he had held his twin like this. When he had his first vision of destruction, when the first mass extinction occurred, when Mum and Dad fought for the first time... Every time something was more than Mī could handle, he would need his brother. But... Who was there for him after Lucifer Fell? The thought plagued him, because the more he thought on it, the more he suspected he already knew the answer.

No one.

Lucifer had been alone in Hell, and his Mī had been alone in Heaven. Hadn’t Mîchael seen that in one of his visions? _‘I don’t want to be alone.’ ‘Mī... you should know that can never happen.’ _But it had. He betrayed his brother by forcing him to choose sides, and Mîchael had betrayed him too, by abandoning him.  
  
After a few more desperate sobs, Mîchael looked up at Lucifer, and wrapped his arms around him, holding on, as if for dear life. He swallowed a few times, trying to school his feelings enough to speak.   
  
“Why?”  
  
“Why what?” Lucifer started to trace soothing circles on his twin’s back, just as Dr. Linda had done for him not long ago. It seemed to help.  
  
“Why don’t you hate me?” It sounded almost like a plea. And there was that pain in his chest again. Lucifer was not fond of that feeling. He really needed that drink.  
  
“I could never…”  
  
Mîchael pulled back a little to straighten up and look at him more closely, a look of disbelief on his distraught face. “But I don’t…” He seemed to choke on his words, before swallowing, and trying again. “B… but I… don’t d… de… dess… serve…” His whispered voice was shaking and he looked away again, wiping the tears and snot, sniffing miserably. Lucifer wasn’t having it. Not when he now knew what was so obvious. Mîchael never hated him. He still had no idea why everything happened the way it had, but... those were questions for another time. First, he had to fix his broken twin.  
  
“None of that, now. Water under the bridge.” He said firmly.  
  
“B… but I… h… hurt you.”  
  
No. Lucifer didn’t want his brother to feel like this. His Mī didn’t deserve to suffer. It wasn’t his fault. He was good. He didn’t deserve to be in Hell. Not now. Not ever again.  
  
“Don’t waste your guilt on me.” He reprimanded.  
  
Mîchael’s eyes widened with hurt confusion. Then after a moment, and a few steadying breathes, he shook his head. “I don’t make promises I can’t keep.” He sniffed, offering a tearful smile before resting his head against him again.  
  
Lucifer shook his head. That stubborn twit.  
  
“But I am grateful.” He sniffed again and his trembling steadied a bit as he closed his eyes.  
  
“I supposed that will have to do for now.” he sighed.  
  
The two of them stayed like that for an immeasurably long time, wrapped in luminous wings, just existing together. They stayed like that for too long, by Lucifer’s counting. But alas, his nervous energy was starting to build up. He still needed that drink, and he was getting antsy with the need to _move. _When it finally overpowered him, he tucked his wings away and disentangled himself from his brother, who responded by curling back in on himself, drawing his arms around his legs.  
  
“Bloody Hell, this is too much.” He declared, standing up. “I need a drink.”  
  
Mîchael leaned back into the corner and watched him passively as he started to head back in. But at least his eyes were open now, the trembling had stopped, and so had the tears. And the lines of anguish were no longer drawn across his face. This was good, Lucifer decided. His brother wasn’t withdrawing into himself, and he wasn’t running away. And as he turned to go back in, opening the door to the balcony, he thought he spotted the ghost of a smile play across his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He’s awake! 😃
> 
> 😈😪💔  
😇🥺💔  
Let the healing begin. For both of them.  
More family drama next chapter.
> 
> As always, I love feedback and comments. Thanks for reading!
> 
> P.S. Someone needs to tell that ADHD Devil that most of us live longer than 60 to 75 years. 🤣


	28. OG Dysfunctional Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amenadiel stops by. Zerachiel and Sandalphon figure something out.

Lucifer was sitting by his brother on the couch when Amenadiel landed on the balcony. He didn’t bother to look his way, choosing instead to sip from the bottle of Brandy and stare aimlessly ahead. Mī _had _been awake when he sent the texts out… but… glancing at his twin, he sighed and took another sip from the bottle. He looked almost peaceful, eyes flitting in his sleep, head resting back on the cushions, half lulled over, and wrapped in the fluffy blanket Lucifer had draped around him, obscuring the ironic Devil emoji sleepwear Daniel found for him. Breaths even and soft.  
  
“So… did I misread the emoji’s you sent me? I thought he was finally awake.” Amenadiel ventured as he came in, and Lucifer turned to look at him. Amenadiel stilled, a paternalistic expression creeping into his features… bloody Hell, Lucifer was not in the mood for Amenadiel’s sympathy. But… he had messaged him, and here he was.  
  
“He was. We chatted, I offered him some food and drink, he turned it all down… I convinced him to sit on the couch, and he... decided to pop off for a kip.” He shrugged, like it was no big deal. Judging from the concern in Amenadiel’s eyes, his brother wasn’t buying it. The first born glanced furtively between Lucifer and Mîchael as he crossed the room to lean on the bar, thoughtful, and, as usual, confused.  
  
“You talked? Did he...?”  
  
“He’s a bloody mess. Blames himself... that’s about all I got out of him...” He took a long gulp from the bottle, nearly downing the contents, and an even longer drag from his cigarette, ignoring the slight tremor in his hand.  
  
Amenadiel stood there like the dullard he was, trying to process… He probably wondered why they hadn’t talked more. But Mī wasn’t ready. Lucifer could see that he wanted to… but the words would get stuck any time he tried. He understood. But Amenadiel... He knew nothing of torture. He didn’t understand what it felt like to be powerless, to have one’s identity stripped away and reshaped by pain and anguish. To call out for help from those you thought you could trust, and to be given despair as a reward for hoping.  
  
Glancing at Amenadiel, he felt a familiar twinge of annoyance. He couldn’t seem to wipe that stupid, confused look off his face.  
  
“Well?” The Devil said, looking at his eldest brother, annoyed by the extended awkward silence. “Either say what’s on your mind or bugger off, would you?” He groused.  
  
Amenadiel sighed. “Sorry, Luci, I’m just trying to understand. He _blames_ himself? For what?” Now his brother was making his way behind the bar to select a bottle and pour a drink. Without asking.  
  
“Oh, don’t mind me, help yourself.” Lucifer remarked sarcastically.  
  
“Thank you, I will.” The angel replied, completely missing the sarcasm. Lucifer shook his head. After taking a sip, Amenadiel looked at the Prince of Heaven again. “It just... doesn’t fit. He always put on these airs, like he was a ruthless warrior… who only cared about the ‘Greater Good.’ Cold, distant, harsh, and direct. When he cast you out, he didn’t even seem to mind…” He faltered, shook his head and sighed. “Have I missed something?” He concluded like the dolt he was.  
  
Lucifer was appalled by Amenadiel’s description. “You actually think that’s what he’s like? That is utter and complete codswallop!” He declared angrily, glaring at the other disbelievingly.  
  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Amenadiel demanded of Lucifer indignantly.  
  
“What it means, _Brother,_” he snarled as he stood up, “is that, as usual, you bloody feathered _wankers_ can’t see the forest for the trees!” He spat venomously, as he advanced on the ‘Fist of God.’  
  
“And of course, I supposed you think that you, _as usual, _know best, don’t you, Luci.” Amenadiel shot back coming from around the bar and puffing himself up, apparently not willing to be the scapegoat for his wrath.  
  
“I bloody well do, actually!” He retorted. “All this time, he’s been up there, with you lot treating him like some kind of cold bloody idol, incapable of being in pain!” The hot sting of tears threatened, but Lucifer chose to disregard it, covering up the pain with more anger. Anger was easier.  
  
“I... he didn’t...” Amenadiel fumbled, eyes wide and taken aback. “He never_ let _any of us get to know him.”  
  
“Yes, I’m sure he put his walls up. He always did that when he was really upset.” Lucifer shook his head disbelievingly. “I would’ve thought that by now, you plonkers would know this.”  
  
Amenadiel had nothing to say to that. So Lucifer continued. “He should’ve been able to rely on you – his _family. _You should’ve taken care of him. He was never meant to be alone! This!” He gestured to his sleeping twin, “Should NEVER! Have happened!” He was roaring now, furious with the whole situation. 

Startled by the outburst, Mîchael’s eye flew open, growing wide and guarded, as he pulled in on himself, arms raise instinctively in defense. Both Amenadiel and Lucifer deflated at that, feeling guilty.  
  
“I… apologize. It wasn’t my intent to wake you, Mī.” Lucifer sighed, turning from where he stood to offer a smile.  
  
Amenadiel nodded in agreement, then stepping forward, he came to his brother’s side. “Nor mine… but… if you’re awake, now...”  
  
Lucifer felt his stomach churn as he realized what his idiot brother was about to do. “Don’t.” He warned, moving to intercept.  
  
But Amenadiel wasn’t listening, and he plowed ahead. “Perhaps you can tell us who is responsible for this..?” As he spoke, he placed his hand on Mîchael’s shoulder, no doubt in an attempt to show compassion.  
  
Predictably, Mī flinched at the contact and pulled back, gasping for breath and closing in on himself even more. He looked at his eldest brother with wide eyes and opened his mouth to speak, but found himself stuck, his lower lip trembling with unspoken torment. 

Lucifer was on Amenadiel in an instant, pulling him back forcefully, to create distance between the two. At this point, he didn’t care that Amenadiel couldn’t understand. He had hurt his Mī, and that was not acceptable.  
  
Amenadiel stepped back in response to Lucifer’s anger and looked between the two in bewilderment. Mîchael had his eyes closed now, and his body was trembling violently. Lucifer felt the fires of Hell ignite in his eyes.   
  
“I don’t understand. This isn’t like him.” Amenadiel’s eyes were pleading.  
  
“No, brother. This is trauma.” Lucifer spat poisonously, stepping forward aggressively. He wasn’t going to let that half-wit of a brother torment his Mī just because he was too dense to get it. Amenadiel’s eyes widened in shock and Lucifer’s narrowed in contempt. “Something you sheltered ignorant lot know nothing about.” He snarled. Then he glanced back at his twin, and his anger grew even more. He was struggling to compose himself, taking deep breaths. Mī never should have had to know either, Lucifer decided as he turned to face Amenadiel again, the fire growing within him. “But thanks to you, and the rest of Dad’s flock, now Mī understands it all too well.”  
  
Amenadiel stepped back, looking alarmed. “Luci... I...”  
  
“You dullards were supposed to be there for him.” Lucifer’s voice grew menacing. “But you never were. You never really cared!” He knew he wasn’t being fair, that it wasn’t only Amenadiel who screwed up... but he couldn’t be bothered to worry about it. Not when he was this angry. Lucifer felt fire coursing through his body.   
  
Amenadiel brought up his hands in a gesture meant to placate him. “Brother... you’re hands...”  
  
Lucifer looked at his hands, thrown off by his comment, to see that there was fire on them. Good. He was going to...  
  
“Sam.” Michael’s voice was soft, but steady. Lucifer’s fire vanished immediately as he turned to see his twin looking at him with a sad smile. “It’s okay. Menny isn’t smart, but it’s hardly fair to hold it against him.”  
  
The Devil snorted at the burn. Then he turned to look at the first born to see him sighing and shaking his head. “You’re quite right.” He chuckled, relaxing.   
  
“Gee, thanks.” Amenadiel grumbled, then after a long suffering sigh, he looked at Mîchael. “And don’t call me Menny.” He griped.  
  
An uncomfortable silence fell on the three after that, but then Mîchael let out a small laugh as he dropped his forehead into his hand, shaking his head. The sound was most welcome, and Lucifer smiled fondly at him. Then he started to laugh too, as he looked between his brothers, realization setting in. And as usual, Amenadiel didn’t get it.  
  
“I fail to see what the joke is.” He huffed.  
  
“The three of us…” Lucifer said, laughing harder.  
  
“A truly unlikely trio.” Mîchael concluded.  
  
Amenadiel snorted, then he started to laugh too, finally catching on. “You’re right. What would our siblings think if they saw us together?”  
  
“And not wrecking buildings in an epic row of fisticuffs? They’d likely fly to Raphael and beg for a cure, certain they’d gone stark raving mad!” Lucifer guffawed.   
  
“They would start preparing for the apocalypse.” Mī commented with a rueful half smile, and all three laughed harder, knowing it was true.  
  
“Yes, I imagine they would.” Amenadiel agreed through a chuckle. “They don’t understand change up there.”  
  
Mîchael tilted his head and furrowed his brow at that. “And you do?” He asked. Serious again. Amenadiel offered a self-satisfied grin.  
  
“As Luci said, Earth has beaten some sense into me.” He replied. Lucifer rolled his eyes.  
  
“No, no, no, you’ve got it all wrong, what I said was that Earth beat some of the _stupidity _out of you.” He teased, “Which is impressive, because last I checked, there is no cure for stupidity.”   
  
Mîchael smiled briefly, amused, and a comfortable silence set it. But then he pulled the blanket around his shoulders again. Lucifer sighed. For a moment, he felt like he had his brother back. Seeing him like that had proved to him that the brother he knew was still in there, trying to find his way back from the brink. Lucifer took another swig. He knew what that felt like, too.  
  
***  
  
Zerachiel watched as the two… humans... were put in separate calls, side by side. He knew who one was. Adisa… the human Raziel thought might be Father… but the other?  
  
Sandalphon approached him, holding up a few items. “They had these on them.” He said, handing them over. Two phones, both drained of battery, and something wrapped in silk. Zerachiel grinned wickedly, suspecting what the item might be, and as he unwrapped it, he was not disappointed.   
  
It was the medallion.

The same one Mîchael had been wearing the night they ambushed him... the one that mysteriously went missing in the scuffle. The one he had been looking for ever since.  
  
As he took it in his hand, he was overwhelmed by an immense divine presence. Alarmed, he nearly dropped it. The medallion was radiating with Father’s presence! But… how? Why?  
  
“Boss?” Sandalphon asked, looking slightly worried. Zerachiel schooled his expression and wrapped the medallion up again.  
  
“It seems we have found out what happened to Father. He’s in here.” He explained, holding up the medallion.  
  
“But…” Sandalphon was confused.  
  
“And His soul is over there.” He pointed at the human named Adisa… the human that their Father had parasitically attached himself to. He couldn’t help but grin triumphantly. No wonder Mîchael had hidden it. He was protecting his Master. Zerachiel started to laugh.  
  
“If that’s true… we could destroy the body and leave his soul to wander, weakened and vulnerable, no longer a threat to us.” Sandalphon exclaimed. “This is even better than using our brother to liberate Heaven. We could free our siblings without having to wage a war.” He looked gleeful and hopeful.  
  
Zerachiel fell silent. There it was again. Proof that he could not completely trust his brother. His goals were far too short-sighted. Simply freeing their siblings was not enough. They still needed guidance. And the Earth still needed tending. The humans were going to destroy themselves, or else, his siblings would do it for them, and this was something Zerachiel would not permit.   
  
“Yes. Once we find a way to access it.” He replied vaguely, seriously doubting it would be an easy matter. Then he looked at the two phones, and back at the human that had been captured with their Father. “What do we know about him?” He asked, pointing.  
  
Sandalphon shrugged. “He’s special, somehow. Resistant to divine charms. He may have been with the human who hid Mîchael away from us.” Zerachiel considered this for a moment. That could be useful.  
  
“Speaking of… probably best to continue the hunt.” He said, waving his general off. Nodding, Sandalphon headed out, leaving his commander to think.  
  
Sitting down, the angel stared into empty space, overcome by the turn of events, and what it meant. He looked at the medallion again. It had Mîchael’s symbol carved into the center of it... which meant he was the one who made it... he would know how to access it. Sighing, he put it in his pocket. 

This was good. He could finally deal with Father directly, which would enable him to free his siblings, take command, and guide them into a brighter future. Then he would finally be able to restore paradise on Earth. 

And no child would ever have to suffer again. 

No more battered, neglected, abused or frightened children, cowering under the control of an unworthy parent. No more bad choices made by a people who were never meant to have freewill to begin with.  
  
He could still remember the moment he realized that freewill was the problem with humanity. He remembered holding the girl… she had been no more than five years old. He had used his gift to COMMAND her to be stronger than her parents. Not to follow in their footsteps, but then her father had killed her in a drunken fit of rage. Like so many others, if he had taken away her father’s freewill, he would have nurtured her. He _should _have nurtured her.  
  
A tear slipped from his eye as he glanced at the human housing the soul of his own Father, who, like the girl’s, had failed His children, and he vowed to put an end to all of it. No more suffering. No more unworthy parents. No more broken children.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A good ol’ brotherly spat.👿🔥👊🏾  
Luci is projecting again... but he’s not wrong.😩  
Amenadiel is dense... but trying.😪  
Mi is all like 🙄
> 
> And we get another look into Zerachiel’s mind.
> 
> As always, comments make me happy! ❤️


	29. Chocolate Cake and Lovely Drama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone else arrives. They talk. Cake is involved. And a spy, too.

Ella had gone into work. She needed to get caught up after taking almost three full days off, and she needed to analyze the samples she had gotten from the zombie – _angel_ zombie according to Chloe – but it was hard for her to focus. She kept hearing phantom chiming from her phone, making her check to see if Michael had finally woken up, so when a real one came with a string of emoji’s from Lucifer, she was both surprised and not surprised. Unfortunately, she was in middle of an analysis, so she couldn’t leave right away. But as soon as she was done, she was out of there! When she arrived at Lucifer’s, she skipped into the penthouse with all the exuberance in the world. 

“Yo, my peeps!’ She practically sang. Amenadiel smiled warmly at her. Lucifer smirked from where he sat at his brother’s side, and Michael…. Had the most outrageously adorable bed head _ever! _He was curled up on the couch, wrapped in a dark fluffy blanket, and wearing a distant expression, but at the sound of her voice, it slipped away, a faint smile replacing it.  
  
It was nice to see him looking somewhat composed, and less... wild. Ella resisted the urge to hop over too quickly, remembering how spooked he had been last time he was awake. Her eyes flitted to the empty spot by his side, and noticing where she glanced, he gave a slight nod. She smiled brightly as she plopped down beside him. “Want a hug?” She offered, and he looked at her in surprised, but the lopsided smile that followed was all the answer she needed. She threw her arms around him tenderly, and he leaned in, returning the embrace. When they pulled back, she realized she never actually introduced herself. “I’m Ella, by the way.” She blurted, and he nodded.  
  
“Miss Ella.”  
  
“Just Ella.”  
  
Lucifer chuckled as he stood up, heading to his room. “Good luck with that, Miss Lopez.” He remarked, disappearing beyond the threshold. 

Ella turned back to Michael and offered an understanding smile. “Well, I guess if Lucifer still calls me _‘Miss Lopez,’_... maybe it’s an angel thing?” He blinked owlishly at her, but before he could voice his thoughts, the elevator dinged again, and Linda and Charlie came in.

Turning toward the sound, Michael furrowed his brows and tilted his head when he saw Amenadiel greeting them. The expression was so _Lucifer,_ Ella had to do a double take. “Yours?” He asked softly of his brother.  
  
Amenadiel suddenly seemed nervous for some reason. “Yes.” He croaked.  
  
The Prince of Heaven straightened a bit, brow furrowing further. “That’s unexpected.” He remarked before turning to look out at the balcony, his eyes misty. Ella’s heart went out to him. She could only imagine what he was going through.  
  
“Believe me, Mī, no one was more surprised than him.” Lucifer laughed coming from his room carrying the mountain of clothes he had pilfered from his closet. He probably had every informal garment he owned in his arms as he crossed the penthouse, heading toward the guest room. “I assume Maze is staying away?”  
  
“She didn’t think her presence was needed.” Linda answered tactfully.  
  
Lucifer shrugged, almost dropping a shirt in the process. “That’s a pity. I was going to thank her for keeping the Penthouse in order.” He disappeared into the room, emerging a moment later to head over to the bar, where he proceeded to pour a variety of drinks.  
  
As he offered Linda a tequila, she set the wiggling Charlie down to explore. The little boy had just started walking, and he was eager to put his stubby legs to use.  
  
“I’ll make sure she gets the message.” Linda promised, as the toddling little bipedal made his way over to Michael.  
  
“That’s odd. Usually, Charlie doesn’t like new people…” Amenadiel marveled as his son grabbed onto the archangel’s leg.  
  
Michael’s first reaction was to pull back, startled by the contact… But then he picked up the chubby baby and stood him on his lap to get a better look at him.  
  
“Awe, hey, Charlie!” Ella elated. The child blew raspberries at her before turning back to grab onto Michael’s cheeks. “Rude,” She joked fondly in reply.  
  
The archangel sitting next to her was surprisingly tender and patient with the nephilim in his arms, letting him explore his face without concern… each one seemingly entranced by the other. Michael smiled softly at his nephew, even as he blinked back tears, and Ella fought back the lump forming in her throat at the sight.  
  
“You’re braver than me,” Lucifer remarked walking up to offer Ella a drink, fascinated by the unexpected scene. “I wouldn’t let those grubby little fingers anywhere near my face.”  
  
“Yeah, right. You’re just a big softy, Luce…” Ella teased, reaching for the drink. Lucifer glared, pulling the beverage away, and she smirked in response. “…ifer.” She amended. Satisfied with the correction, he handed the tumbler to her again, letting her take it.  
  
As they spoke, Michael had placed his hand on Charlie’s chest for support, and took his other hand to roll his shoulders just so, and suddenly, with a dainty sneeze, a pair of downy grey wings popped into existence. “There they are.” He said approvingly.  
  
Linda jumped in alarm. Amenadiel pulled back in shock before rushing to take his son in his arms and stare in wonder at the wings… like he hadn’t even known they were there.  
  
Ella lit up like a Christmas tree. “Awe, those are the cutest little downy angel wings ever!” She gasped, clapping her hands delightedly. Charlie ruffled the down feathers and flapped excitedly, clearly delighted by the discovery of wings.  
  
“So… I guess we didn’t need to baby proof the ceiling, then?” Linda chuckled, noticing how much like a baby bird the wings were. “No flying baby after all.” She remarked mirthfully.  
  
“That’s what the bubble wrap was for?” Lucifer laughed, shaking his head. “I thought it was a weird fetish.” Ella nodded. She had too, honestly. But she had a more pressing question.

“Where do the wings go when we can’t see them? Is it like string theory with its crazy idea that there are 11 dimensions, folded in on one another?” She demanded, hoping that at least one of the scientific enigmas in the room might answer. 

Lucifer shrugged, Michael gaped and Amenadiel didn’t even hear her. He was too busy gawking at his son’s wings. Ella huffed, realizing she wasn’t getting an answer. Yet.

“What did you do?” The befuddled angel asked of his brother.  
  
The elevator dinged again at that moment, and as it opened, everyone heard Chloe talking to Trix. “…Remember, you get one piece, then you have to do your homework.”  
  
“I know.” Trix lamented remorsefully, then she looked up and her face exploded into a massive smile. “Lucifer!” She elated as she bounced out of the elevator and, tossing her backpack aside, she assaulted him with a mighty balance-breaking hug, causing him to fall backward onto the floor with a startled yip. “I missed you!” She exclaimed. Chloe smiled at the sight. Then Trix pulled back to look at her mother. “Can Lucifer help with my report?”  
  
“I… what?” He fumbled in response, staring in bewilderment at her.   
  
Stepping out of the elevator, Chloe rubbed her eyes. She had a shopping bag in her hand. “That’s up to Lucifer, monkey, but really, I wish you had chosen a different subject for your school report.” She sighed.  
  
The girl grinned mischievously at that. “Mrs. Murphy told me to write about something new and unexpected… and no one expects the Spanish Inquisition.” She said, standing up again.  
  
“Taa tii!” Charlie babbled upon seeing her so close to him. Suddenly, Chloe and her daughter both noticed that his wings were out, flapping adorably… and uselessly in exuberance.  
  
“Woah, cool!” Trix exclaimed, forgetting about her favorite fallen archangel and turning her attention to the baby nephilim. 

“I know, right? Aren’t they adorable?” Ella gushed emphatically. 

“Totally!” her friend agreed.

Chloe looked horrified for a moment, then confused, and Ella suddenly wondered if the girl was in the KNOW.  
  
“Trix? Monkey?” Her mother asked tentatively as she approached, staring in surprise at the wings… and at her daughter’s apparent lack of surprise. “You okay?”  
  
“I’d be more okay if I didn’t have to go into another room and write a report.” Was all she said as she reached out to touch the baby’s wings. Instinctively, Amenadiel pulled his son up and away. Trix looked startled, then embarrassed. “Sorry, is it rude to touch an angel’s wings? No one ever tells me anything… except for Lucifer.” She pouted.  
  
Michael looked from around the wall of people now between them and nodded at her.  
  
She looked at him suspiciously for a moment, before she smiled and shrugged. “Oh, okay.” She said. Then the girl turned to Chloe, who was frozen in the middle of the room, staring open mouthed. “But we agreed, chocolate cake first.”  
  
Snapping out of it, Chloe laughed, realizing, as everyone else seemed to… except for Lucifer - who didn’t seem surprised at all - that Trix had simply believed Lucifer from the start. “The cake is for everyone, but yes. You can have a piece first.”  
  
“I know.” She said, already heading to the kitchen.  
  
“Detective, you brought cake?” Lucifer asked, already off the floor and adjusting his suit as he eagerly made his way to the kitchen, fetching a knife and plates, licking his lips in anticipation.   
  
“Trixie’s idea. Thought it might lighten the mood.”  
  
“That’s a great idea.” Ella declared. “Get me a piece, too!”  
  
For a couple minutes, the cake was the center of attention, but Ella noticed that when Lucifer came by with two plates, Michael seemed horrified by the suggestion that one was for him. Lucifer huffed in frustration, and Ella worried about that… but it wasn’t going to stop her from enjoying her treat. After a couple minutes with everyone quietly indulging, Michael broke the silence.  
  
“Amenadiel… how?” He asked, glancing between him and his family.  
  
His brother’s response to the question was to freeze up. For a moment, he just gaped, but then, after fixing a more neutral expression into place, he answered with a question. “You don’t know? How long have you been… away?”  
  
Lucifer was back at his twin’s side, a strangely protective look about him as he watched Amenadiel… like he expected their brother to do or say something wrong. Michael looked between the two for a bit, uncertain. Then Lucifer shook his head. “Really, brother, how is he to know? I doubt that whoever… I doubt they gave him a calendar.” Amenadiel sighed, an apologetic look on his face as Lucifer addressed Michael. “What was happening when you went missing?” He offered instead.  
  
Chloe was suddenly at Lucifer’s side, looking worriedly at her beloved. Linda approached too. Trix had already been ushered off to do her homework. 

“You had been on Earth for three years by this world’s counting.” Michael replied.  
  
“Six years ago?” Chloe gasped. And the air in the room seemed to grow cold. Ella’s heart broke for him. 

“Oh, bud, that’s...” Ella was at a loss for words. She wanted to tell him that he was safe now, that it was terrible what happened, but none of it seemed right, so she just hugged him again. She couldn’t help it. His immediate reaction was to startle and tense, and Ella moved to let go, ready to apologize. But then he brought a shaking hand to her arm, and taking a steadying breath, he offered her a quivering smile. When she pulled back, he looked out to the balcony again, an unreadable expression on his face. Then, after a pause, he turned to lock eyes on Amenadiel.  
  
“Explain.” He said. Ella was confused. Explain? What? Was he surprised that Amenadiel had a family? That he was on Earth? That he had been on Earth long enough to start a family? The angel in question seemed stuck, but Lucifer… he had a wicked gleam in his eye.  
  
“Oh, allow me.” He purred, heading over to the bar to get a glass of bourbon to pair with his cake. Then after taking a bite, he happily narrated, and Amenadiel cringed. “This manky dullard decided to bring a corrupt cop back to life, pulling his soul out of Hell.” He took a bite of his cake and looked at Michael. Everyone did. Except for Chloe, who turned to look suspiciously at Amenadiel. Michael looked… annoyed.   
  
“I was trying to get Lucifer to go back to Hell.” Amenadiel tried to explain. Michael’s eyebrow raised.  
  
“We thought I was becoming mortal at the time. Turns out it’s only the Detective that makes me mortal. Anyway, the wanker went on a killing spree, shot me dead, I got better, and the Detective returned him to Hell.” Lucifer announced casually, taking a sip of bourbon and grinning viciously at Amenadiel, who cringed even more. Michael looked... more than annoyed now. And Chloe was furious. Ella’s head was reeling.  
  
“You died?” She exclaimed to Lucifer, who seemed to find the question amusing.  
  
“That was _your_ doing?” Chloe demanded of Amenadiel in the same instant. “He _abducted _Trixie!” Amenadiel looked like he wanted to disappear. Even Charlie reproachfully blew raspberries at him.  
  
“Yes, Miss Lopez…” Lucifer confirmed before continuing. “Anyway, overcome with all kinds of angsty grief over being such an utter and complete wash of an angel, he lost his wings, his powers, and his self-respect, landing himself thoroughly stranded on Earth.” Lucifer concluded merrily, apparently reveling in Amenadiel’s shame.  
  
Seeing Amenadiel visibly shrink, Linda placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “But he learned a few things and he’s grown into a wonderful person. A good brother for Lucifer, a wonderful partner for me, and a marvelous Daddy for Charlie.” She smiled at him, and Charlie flapped his foofy wings while grabbing at Amenadiel’s face and babbling joyously.  
  
Michael looked at them for a minute. “Then who was watching Hell?” He asked, clearly perplexed.  
  
“No one.” Both Lucifer and Amenadiel said as one. And the commander of Heaven’s armies found his face in his hands, rubbing his temples like he had a head ache. He probably did. Ella definitely had one.  
  
“I’m sorry.” Amenadiel offered weakly.  
  
“And now?” Michael asked, looking slightly worried.  
  
“Duma’s down there for the time being.” Amenadiel quickly replied, seemingly desperate to offer good news.   
  
Michael was silent as he looked at Amenadiel, still holding Charlie, and as his eyes wandered to the little angel, who was trying to grab at his wings now, he nodded once. “Very well, then.” He said, apparently having come to a decision about something.  
  
The lack of consequence seemed to take Amenadiel by surprised as he gaped at his brother, but then, as if he could feel them, he visibly flinched away from the daggers Chloe was sending his way with her eyes. Ella shook her head. According to what Lucifer said, Amenadiel was going to have to do something pretty profound to get back into Chloe’s good graces.  
  
***  
  
Sitting on Lucifer’s princess bed by her lap top, Trixie sighed. They sent her away, but she could still hear everything. It was really hard to focus on the Spanish Inquisition when there was all that lovely drama right outside the room. At that thought, she remembered how she had promised Maze to spy for her, so she pulled out her phone and texted as detailed an update as she could. She concluded the text with the following note.  
  
“I don’t think Michael is going to hurt anyone.” She hit send and turned back to her work. More accurately, she looked at the empty word document in frustration.  
  
Ding!  
  
“Don’t trust him. He’s dangerous. If he seems nice, it’s just because he needs Lucifer right now. As soon as he’s done, he’s gonna throw him away again.”  
  
Trixie rolled her eyes. She got off the bed and glanced around the corner to see him on the couch, looking small and lost… like a kicked puppy.  
  
“If he’s acting, he’s really good at it.” Trixie texted as she returned to her spot. “You could be wrong, you know.”  
  
This was followed by three dots on her screen, indicating that Maze was texting and erasing and trying again… A few minutes later, the following message popped up.  
  
“When you come home, one of my demon blades will be waiting for you under your pillow. Keep it on you at all times… You’re gonna need it.”  
  
Trixie laughed. She had always wanted to play with Maze’s demon blades. 

“Okay. But I would be safer if you were here, too.” She tried, already knowing the demon wasn’t going to fall for it.  
  
“Busy. I’m at Ella’s. Waiting for the other winged bastard to come back. And when he does, I’m gonna gut him.”  
  
Trixie guessed that made sense. This other angel seemed like a much bigger threat than Michael. But she had hoped Maze would help with her homework. It was in that moment that Lucifer wandered in. She turned back to her laptop, pretending like she had been working the whole time.  
  
The Devil gracefully settled next to her and looked at the blank screen knowingly. “So,” He grinned. “Have fun eaves dropping, urchin?” Trixie grinned back, knowing he wasn’t going to tell on her.  
  
“Yep.”  
  
Then he got a twinkle in his eye. “The Spanish Inquisition, eh?”  
  
“Yep.” The twinkle turned into a wolfish grin.  
  
“Lovely choice, spawn. Not that I’m a fan of what happened, mind you, but I can’t help but appreciate the delicious irony when so many of Dad’s flock land so thoroughly in Hell. Where shall I begin?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maze wants everyone to hate Michael. It’s not working out. 🤣
> 
> Lucifer’s retelling of the season one finale:  
Luci: 😈  
Chloe: 🤬  
Ella: 😱  
Menny: 😖  
Linda: 😪  
Mi: 🙄😤😨🧐😞  
Trix: 😏
> 
> This chapter is super fluffy. 😇👼🏽🎂  
I know you all love angst... and fear not, there is more coming. 😈  
But even fluffy chapters have plot, clues, and foreshadowing. 😏
> 
> Comments give my writing life. ❤️


	30. Everybody Wants to Rule the World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amenadiel talks to Linda. Zerachiel messes with Dan.

Amenadiel was worried and conflicted. Mîchael... He cared about him, as he did all his siblings, but he wasn’t going to lie to himself and pretend their relationship had been a positive one. He knew it wasn’t all on him. Mîchael had _always_ been distant, but thinking back on it, he knew that, consumed as he once was by jealousy, he hadn’t been the best brother, either. It was an unsettling thought. Sitting in his living room, he found himself stuck, wrestling with his memories, reevaluating everything he thought he knew.

_“He always put on these airs, like he was a ruthless warrior… who only cared about the ‘Greater Good.’ Cold, distant, harsh, and direct. When he cast you out, he didn’t even seem to mind... Have I missed something?”   
  
Lucifer looked at him disbelievingly. “You actually think that’s what he’s like? That is utter and complete codswallop!” _

His brother’s words troubled him. He knew he didn’t really know their brother well, but...

Mîchael was a commander, and a defender. That much was indisputable... but beyond that? Amenadiel tried to remember what he had been like before. Before Lucifer’s Fall. Before he was ‘The Prince of Heaven.’ When he was still just Mîchael. But even _those _memories were clouded by animosity. Of those, one memory in particular stood out from the rest.

_Amenadiel stood triumphantly over Zerachiel... the fifth opponent he had bested during his training session._

_“Come now, Zeri. I expected more of a challenge from you. I’m not even warmed up, yet!” He teased as he saw Mîchael walk up, a steely glint in his eyes._

_“Enough, Amenadiel.” He said, kneeling to offer Zerachiel his hand._

_“Oh? Already acting like you’re in charge? I’ll decide when I’ve had enough.” The recently named ‘Fist of God’ retorted. Mîchael turned to look at him after helping their brother to his feet, a decidedly unimpressed expression on his face as he stepped in front of Zerachiel, who was moving back now. “I’m here to train, but it seems none of our siblings can give me a proper challenge.” He crossed his arms and glared contemptuously at the ‘Sword of God.’_

_“Then I will be your next opponent.” He remarked calmly._

_Amenadiel laughed. “You?” He shook his head. “You don’t stand a chance!” The first born chuckled unkindly at his little brother. “Did you forget? I’m much stronger than you.”_

_Mîchael shrugged impassively. “You rely too much on your strength. You expect it will never fail you. But strength is a weapon, and every weapon can be turned against the one who wields it.”_

_Amenadiel snorted. That was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. But he put the thought aside, feeling a thrill coarse through him. He had been wanting to put Father’s golden boy in his place for a long time, and he was finally getting the chance._

_Without offering a warning, he charged Mîchael, swinging his fist with everything he had. He was going to make sure his self-important younger brother never forgot this._

_He hadn’t realized he made a mistake until his fist failed to connect. Mîchael had barely moved... just enough that his punch met emptiness instead of face. He hadn’t realized how much of a mistake it was until he felt his brother’s hand redirecting his strike, effortlessly turning his momentum off course. He couldn’t believe it when he felt himself stumbling..._

_When he felt a force on his back, when he felt himself going down, he finally realized he had grossly underestimated his brother._

_As he struggled to break from the impossible hold Mîchael had on him, anger melted into bewilderment. “How?” He squawked._

_Zerachiel was suddenly crouching at his side, grinning like a fool. “Come now, Menny! I expected more of a show from you. He’s not even warmed up, yet!”_

Amenadiel rubbed his temples. He used to think of that incident as Mîchael asserting his authority prematurely... he had been so ashamed... so angry. Looking back on it, he was embarrassed to realize Mîchael had been defending their siblings from him.

And he had held it against him for a long time, too. When it came to Mîchael, he often let his anger keep him from seeing things clearly. Again and again, he would see what he wanted to, he realized sadly. Which made him wonder. Had he misread his reaction to Lucifer’s fall, too?

When Mîchael cast his twin out, Amenadiel had assumed the empty expression he wore was proof of how little Mîchael cared. He remembered him walking passed everyone with disinterest. Raphael had tried to offer compassion, but he was brushed off. And when Gabriel tried to tell him he did the right thing... Mîchael gave no response. Then he went into his rooms, and he didn’t come out for a long time.

Dear Father.

Amenadiel felt like such an idiot.

_“Yes, I’m sure he put his walls up. He always did that when he was really upset.”_

Lucifer’s words came back to him with brutal force. He had been so blind. And now, his brother had been hurt.   
  
Michael was the Prince of Heaven, and for many hundreds of years now, he had been running things in the Silver City. Father had handed the reigns over, more or less completely.   
  
Of course, no one questioned it. After all, Father was no second-rate tinkerer. He took pleasure in making things to the best of His capacity, so naturally, creation was meant to be self-sustaining, because anything less would be unbefitting. So Father’s inattentiveness was of no concern. Until now.  
  
_“Father’s... gone.”_  
  
Michael’s words. But what did that mean?   
  
His brother had the answers, but something was terribly wrong. He wasn’t himself, and Amenadiel had no idea how to fix it. But he knew someone who _would _know what to do. 

He found Linda in the kitchen with Charlie in his high chair, enjoying a feast of lumpy orange mush. Pulling up a chair and sitting at their side, he noticed a letter on the counter. It was a traffic ticket for Maze. For running a red light. While using a phone. On a motorcycle.

Linda looked his way as he sat staring dumbly. “You want to talk about Michael?” She offered.  
  
“Yes, please.” He said, snapping out of his daze. “I… I’m worried, and… I want to help... but Michael… for some reason, he won’t tell us what happened. How can I help if I don’t know what’s wrong?” He fumbled, feeling foolish for how poorly worded the question was. Linda smiled affectionately at him, though. Because she understood. She always understood.  
  
“You’re going to have to take it slow with Michael, he’s likely suffering from ASD, with a high risk of it developing into complex PTSD.” She explained as she fed Charlie. “I can’t make an official diagnosis without a proper evaluation, but all the symptoms are there.” Charlie blew raspberries at that, orange goop spraying out of his mouth. “Definitely struggling with Disassociation.” She continued, unbothered by the mess.  
  
Amenadiel‘s head hurt. He remembered what PTSD was from his stint pretending to be a therapist... but... “What’s ASD? Or disassociation?” He must have been making a funny face because both Linda and Charlie laughed at him.   
  
“Acute Stress Disorder. And a feeling of being disconnected… essentially. Like I said, I’m guessing. There are too many unknowns for me to make a proper diagnosis.” She made an airplane sound as she spooned the smashed steamed carrots into the willing mouth of their son. “But right now, my biggest worry is that Lucifer says he isn’t eating.”  
  
Now it was Amenadiel’s turn to laugh. “Michael has never eaten once in his life.” Linda’s dumbfounded expression was priceless. Amenadiel often forgot how little the humans in his life actually knew about angels.  
  
“But... you and Lucifer eat all the time!” She fumbled. “Is that just for fun?” She demanded, looking at their child suspiciously.  
  
In response, Amenadiel explained to her - at great length - the complexities of celestial divinity, and the need to replenish it when away from the Silver City. He told her about how sleep, food, and drink all helped, though none were absolutely necessary... except for sleep, perhaps. But only when away from Heaven. In the Silver City, nothing was needed. Just being there was enough to replenish any amount of light that was spent. “...Honestly, it took me a long time before I tried eating or drinking anything, myself. And Michael never has.”  
  
Linda turned this information over in her head as her own little angel delightedly played with the food on his placemat. “But if an angel’s reserves are depleted enough, it isn’t unreasonable to think that sleep alone won’t be enough.” She finally reasoned out.  
  
This was an incredible revelation for Amenadiel. Of course! It was so obvious, now! No wonder his brother was out of sorts. His face lit up with unbridled joy. “That’s it! Linda, you’re brilliant! This could fix _everything!” _Yes, Mîchael needed sustenance, then he would get back to being himself, and everything would be better.   
  
And Amenadiel could start to be the brother he should have been all along.   
  
***  
  
Dan woke up on a rough spun fabric with a splitting headache. He was cold, and hungover. Had he been out drinking with Maze again? It wasn’t fair. She was a demon. He never had a chance of out-drinking her, he realized as he opened his eyes to stare blearily at his surroundings. It was dark… there were bars around him… like a cage.  
  
Had he and Maze done something he would regret?  
  
As he sat up, his head swam, and memories started to flood back in. God. Angels. Michael… He had been shot by a dart…  
  
Shit.  
  
“You don’t look well, Daniel.” He heard the smooth accent of Elohim next to him, and blinking he turned to see… yep, he was in a cage. And so was his… was it okay to call God a friend? Whatever… Elohim was in a different cage, next to his, sitting on a plain cot, looking far too serene for the situation they were in.   
  
“I’ve been better,” Dan groaned. He was apparently sitting on a similar cot. His prison didn’t seem to have much else - besides a bucket - and Dan did _not _want to consider the reason for that! Gross.  
  
Elohim chuckled and got up to walk over to the edge of his cage and motioned for Dan to come as close as he could. Dan struggled up and stumbled over to lean against the cage. Then He reached through the bars to place His hand on Dan’s head and the wooziness, the nausea, the headache… they all just went away. It was heavenly.  
  
“If you find a way to bottle that, people would sell their souls for it,” Dan breathed, feeling relieved. Elohim raised an eyebrow at him, then He laughed.  
  
“Technically… I did. The medallion… and yes, people were indeed willing to sell their souls for it.” He sighed and sat back down, resting his back against the bars. Dan followed suit, so they ended up back to back, separated by cold metal.   
  
For a moment, neither spoke. “Now what?” Dan finally asked, at a loss for anything else to say.  
  
“We find out what Zerachiel and Sandalphon are up to. I’m afraid they have us at a disadvantage.” God stated simply, not a drop of worry in his voice. But there_ was_ an edge of anger there. Dan wondered if fear was something the Divine Creator was even capable of. He was probably above fear, he decided. Fine. Dan could be afraid for both of them.  
  
“So… what super powers do you have?” He asked, trying to be casual about it, but before the other could offer an answer, the door to the room they were in opened and a light came on. The room was filled with empty cages from what they could see… like a dungeon.

Great. They were in a dungeon.  
  
The angel from before - the one that looked like the Rock and Khal Drogo’s love child – walked in. He wore black slacks and a semi-formal burgundy jacket with gold trim. It was a bold combination, by he wore it well. His charming face had a benevolent expression, and Dan felt a strange urge to_ trust_ him. With anything. Which he knew was absurd. His wings were hidden wherever angels put them, but everything about the man in front of him felt more than human.  
  
“You’re awake.” He smiled, and the expression no longer seemed so benevolent… it was menacing. Fortunately the look was directed at God, and Dan was secretly glad for that. “I thought I would stop by, and officially welcome you to your new life.” He sneered.  
  
“What have you done to your brother?” Elohim demanded harshly, completely disregarding the ‘greeting.’  
  
“Don’t look at me so accusingly.” The angel snarled. “If_ you _hadn’t brainwashed him, I wouldn’t have had to do_ anything!” _As he spoke, he drew up to God’s cage so that his face was inches from the bars. Dan backed away, instinctively fearful of the predator drawing all too close to him.  
  
Elohim simply looked at him with barely contained wrath. “You really have painted a rather distorted picture of reality to justify your actions, haven’t you? Perhaps it had been an error to disregard your visits to Earth, Zerachiel.”  
  
The angel – Zerachiel – pulled back in alarm. “You knew? But Raziel was masking my divinity!”  
  
“And the humans you helped throughout the years… they saw you, and through their eyes, I knew my son. Did you really think I was unaware of your meddling? I allowed it because you were helping people.” He sounded annoyed, like he was explaining something painfully simple to a student who never listened. He even rubbed his temples in frustration as he spoke. Dan felt like he was officially in _way_ over his head again. He was witnessing a conflict between two biblical entities. His headache was back. Neither seemed to notice, though.  
  
Zerachiel glowered at his Father as he replied, his voice soft, yet venomous. “Leaving well enough alone may have been the only decent thing you’ve ever done.” He growled, “And now it’s too late for you to change your mind. I will make sure of that.” God raised a dark eyebrow at him. “I’ve been planning this for a long time. Ever since you turned your back on us. You betrayed Mother, Lucifer, humanity, even your precious Mîkā’el. And now, everything’s coming apart.” He gestured around in frustration. “I aim to fix that.”  
  
Dan was reeling, but he also felt himself growing angry. This creep actually thought he was one of the good guys! “Right, and how do you plan on fixing it?” He challenged, standing up and glaring with feigned courage.  
  
Zerachiel turned to look at him, and the anger bled away to be replaced by a friendly smile. “Oh, dear me, I almost forgot about you. I apologize.” Dan was surprised by this. But not as surprised as he was when he saw his captor pulling a key out of his pocket and putting it into the keyhole of his cage. “You will forgive the rough treatment, I hope. But I wasn’t sure who, or what you were.”  
  
“Zerachiel.” God’s voice came out as a warning as he stood. The angel ignored him though, as he opened the door and motioned for the very confused detective to step out.  
  
“You’re letting me go?”  
  
“I’m releasing you from your prison, yes.” He said pleasantly. And suddenly, Dan was overwhelmed by visions and feelings…  
  
...Like he was caught up in a dream, a soothing voice whispering into his ear. He felt his fear and mistrust bleed away. Somewhere, he was aware that Zerachiel was talking to him, his hand on his shoulder, a gentle, welcomed contact. “This is how I fix things, Daniel Espinoza. I will free all mortals from the prison in their minds making them believe that they are on their own. I will be your guide, and I will lead you to Paradise.” And for the first time in his life, he saw things clearly.

The system was broken.

Determining someone’s fate based on guilt was unjust. Victims went to Hell because they blamed themselves, and corrupt politicians ended up in Heaven. Humans were chaotic, and the balance of nature was lost. People murdered in God’s name. Michael kept having to make impossible choices just to keep humanity from self-destructing. And still, after every sacrifice, humanity was destroying the world. Garbage heaps and radiation desecrated the oceans. The polar icecaps were melting. Continents were burning. Children starved. Young and innocent boys and girls were ensnared by human traffickers. The Middle East had been at war for an age. And multitudes of good people would weep while doing nothing. They didn’t know what to do. They were children in need of guidance.

Humanity needed to return to being as it had been in the beginning. Then there would be no need for Hell. There would be no reason to fight, and the angels would not have to submit to roles that were not right for them.

It was time to restore Paradise. Dan understood. He felt a little sad that humanity needed to forfeit freewill, but he was overwhelmed by an all-encompassing gratitude for the being who was leading them back to Paradise.  
  
“Let me help. Please?” Dan heard himself saying, and Zerachiel smiled kindly at him.  
  
“Of course.”

**_Song Title:_** [Everybody Wants to Rule the World](https://youtu.be/VdT1bDKP85w) cover by Lorde. Original song by Tears for Fears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember Maze’s reckless biking from chapter 10? It’s coming back to haunt her. 🤣
> 
> Amenadiel is a fascinating character. He started out as a villain and changed into a protagonist. But he still has to face the back lash of his previous actions.
> 
> And he is out of his depths here, but bless him: he’s trying so hard. ❤️
> 
> Zerachiel is another matter. He’s legitimately trying to save the world, but he’s doing it wrong. And unfortunately, he believes the ends justify the means. 😖


	31. Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter is pure angst and fluff. Then there’s Maze.

_“The boss wants to treat you like a pampered pet. And, if that’s what he wishes, fine. But I’m not him.”  
  
Sandalphon’s voice was laced with hatred as he roughly dragged him forward. His hands were bound, golden fetters connected to a thick chain wrapped around his torso and hooked to the collar at his neck. For the moment, his legs were free, allowing him to walk, but his brother had the manacles for his ankles in his free hand. Four of his most trusted soldiers followed closely behind.  
  
“You are a prisoner of war. And I see no reason to show you mercy.” He spat, roughly yanking on the chain extending from the back of the collar. He stumbled and glared. With the gag securely in place, glaring was all he could do.  
  
They reached a door, and Sandalphon motioned for them to stop. He gripped his face with bruising force, making him look at him as two of his warriors grabbed him, and the other two proceeded to reattach the chains to his ankles.  
  
“I was given strict orders not to injure you. So how, I find myself asking, am I to really punish you without going against orders?”   
  
His brother stepped back to admire their handiwork, and laughed cruelly as he jerked on the chain and spun him around to face the door, wrapping one arm around him in a vicious hold.  
  
“You know, it’s a sin to keep your gift locked away. And you haven’t been very cooperative with us. I think it’s time you saw what your disobedience has wrought.” He purred into his ear from behind.  
  
One of his subordinates opened the door, and they stepped aside, all of them laughing now.  
  
“The boss thinks I got rid of the failed experiments, but that would have been a dreadful waste. They’re empty now, their meager divinity long since used up, but they’re still good for one thing.” And with that, he violently shoved him through the door to crash face down into the room and the horrors that awaited him there.  
  
Gasping through the gag, he desperately tried to pull back, not wanting to see, not wanting to believe…  
  
But…_  
  
He woke up in a panic as the dream - the _memory_ \- clung to him, the image of their lifeless forms haunting him every time he closed his eyes, causing him to seize up. He hated the feeling. He hated the pain, the cacophony in his ears, the need to run, the weakness in his muscles, the crippling fear and anguish over... nothing. There was nothing there.  
  
Instinctively he reached out to grab something… _anything, _and he found the spare pillow. Pulling it in, he was startled to realize his arms automatically positioned themselves as if cradling… A broken sob slipped out as he curled in around the pillow. They took her. He did what they asked… no more dead children. But they still took her away.  
  
She had black hair and blue eyes… and her wings shined like Samael’s. _Please, don’t do this. Don’t take her away. I did what you asked…_  
  
No more dead children.  
  
He was getting stuck in a loop.  
  
Breath. In. Out.  
  
Slowly, he pushed the memories down to writhe just below the surface so he could function better, but the unsteady off-kilter confusion lingered anyway. His head was pounding and a part of him just wanted to curl up and go back to sleep, giving in to the ever present exhaustion… but sleep frightened him. 

He needed to focus… but focusing was hard, too. His head swam when he sat up, and as he got out of bed, he felt sluggish and wrong-footed, but he willed himself to stay alert.   
  
Looking for a way to center himself, he wandered out to the balcony. The predawn light greeted him as he looked out onto the cityscape. He liked it there. The height, the wind, the open sky, the world stretched out beyond. No more locked doors or small rooms. It felt like freedom, and even though he had no desire to venture out, he felt comforted by the vastness, just knowing it was still there – knowing it was real… not just a dream. It was a strange notion.  
  
Everything was strange now.  
  
And not just because he didn’t really know or understand the Earthly Plane - which he didn’t. Nothing felt real anymore. It didn’t even feel like he was really there. A part of him felt like this was all happening to someone else… that he would eventually wake up, which was absurd… what would he wake to? Another dream? Detachment wasn’t new for him, but feeling detached like this was… odd.  
  
He needed to get over it. He needed a plan. _What’s the next step? _Looking at his clothes, he sighed. These were for sleeping. He wasn’t sleeping... he was pretty sure he was awake. Sighing, he returned to the room to stare at the garments his twin had given him to use. The variety confused him. Everything was confusing. This was a problem. He was supposed to be the smart one... but now, he just felt lost. And worse, he was too confused to figure out how to get over it.  
  
Another loop.   
  
Samael understood. He understood loops… And he was great at offering distractions and just... being there. It was more than he felt he deserved from his twin, and he was grateful. Finding Samael had been a gamble, but he was glad he had done so. His brother’s presence gave him purchase.   
  
It was nice seeing him happy, too. He was so relaxed with these humans. It reminded him of how it had been back when life was still a good dream. He wondered if _this _was a dream. If so, he wanted to hold onto it. He didn’t want to remember how broken everything was.  
  
Not sure how long he had been standing there, he pulled himself from his reveries, and selecting things at random, he threw them on with disinterest, and headed out, following the sound of voices. He recognized Miss Ella, Detective Chloe, and her child. Also, Amenadiel and Dr. Linda, with their toddling offspring - _Charlie. _

Another wave of_ pain _hit his chest at the sight of the little half-angel, and he found himself stuck for a minute, while he fought to compose himself again. The pain in his chest didn’t go away, but once his mask was back in place and he could breathe again, he approached on silent feet. He wondered if Amenadiel had figured out_ how _he had produced a child yet - doubtful. Menny wasn’t smart.  
  
They were talking very seriously, and as he headed to the couch, he realized, much to his dismay, that they were talking about him. Worrying over him. Was it so obvious that he was not altogether himself?   
  
“Hey, you.” Miss Ella greeted, smiling brightly as he sat down on the couch by his brother. He offered a small smile in return. He wished he could see her light. It was probably marvelously bright. But without his wings… he felt blind.  
  
Sammy brushed a stray curl from his forehead by way of acknowledging his presence. Even after all this time, he was always messing with his curls. Some things, it seemed, never changed.  
  
“Come to join the party, have you?” His twin grinned. He was very good at acting like nothing was amiss.   
  
He nodded in reply. Words were being difficult, but no one seemed to push. The others continued with their discussion after a momentary pause, and he tried to follow it, but it was difficult to keep track. Something about food, and the word ‘feast’ was thrown around a lot. Amenadiel seemed to be arguing with Sam about something.   
  
Suddenly, he felt a hand at his side and, startling, he turned to see Detective Chloe’s child. She smiled and held up a strange stuffed toy. It was light brown, with two black dots for eyes, a line for a mouth with white rectangles for teeth, and two protrusions on the sides of its head for ears.  
  
“This is Miss Alien.” The girl said. She held it out to him and he took it to look over. “She helps with bad dreams.” She continued, sitting down on Sammy’s lap. His twin squirmed at her unexpected invasion of his space. “I want you to have her.” He wasn’t sure how a bit of fuzzy fabric wrapped around stuffing could help with anything, but her intensions were pure, so he didn’t mind. “But only for now. You have to give her back when the bad dreams go away.”  
  
“Umm...” He examined the toy, furrowing his brows as he tried to make sense of it. After a pause, he looked at the human again with an appreciative smile. “Thank you..?”  
  
“My friends call me Trixie.” She offered her hand to him, which seemed to jostle Samael in the process.  
  
“Careful, urchin. This is Armani.” he huffed.  
  
“Miss Trixie,” he affirmed, letting her shake his hand. The girl studied him for a bit, then she continued.  
  
“Maze thinks you’re bad. She’s my friend, but sometimes she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. I don’t think you are. I think you’re hurting, and Mom says that when someone is hurting, they need a friend. So I’ll be your friend.”  
  
“Mazikeen of the Lilim is your _friend?” _He exclaimed in disbelief. Had he fallen into a completely different reality? Demons making friends with human children was just too perplexing.   
  
“Yeah. I let her borrow Miss Alien once too. She got blood on it, but Mom got it out... mostly. You can still see a little bit right here.” She pointed at a faded stain on the side of its face. Well, this part, at least, made sense.  
  
Miss Trixie proceeded to chat while the others continued with their conversation. Mostly, she talked about food. The child seemed to be quite excited by the subject. He listened to her quietly. It was easier for him to follow this conversation than the other one. She wasn’t using strange phrases like ‘self-actualization,’ for starters, and she seemed to stay on the one subject: all the different kinds of food there were.  
  
“...Chocolate cake is my favorite. You’re gonna love food once you try it. I can’t believe you actually went this whole time without eating. If it was me, I would be_ soooooo _dead!” She leaned back heavily against Sam, rolling her eyes exaggeratedly, and letting her tongue hang out in a childish imitation of death, once again, upsetting his twin.  
  
“Please, offspring! If you’re going to keep wiggling about, do it on someone else’s lap.” He groused.  
  
Without missing a beat, she flopped off Samael’s lap and hopped onto his, causing him to let out an undignified yelp. She laughed. “Lucifer says you don’t need to worry about nutrition because you’re an angel. That means you can eat as much dessert as you want! If I was you, I would only eat dessert.”  
  
That is when he finally pieced together what everyone had been talking about. Horrified, he gaped at her. “I’m expected to consume all these things?” He blurted. He felt like he might be sick just thinking about it.  
  
“Yep. But don’t worry. I’ll help. Especially with the chocolate cake. We all will, because food is _amazing!” _She exalted. He started to shake his head, suddenly feeling trapped. Looking around, he realized all eyes were on him. Nervousness setting in, he turned to his twin for reassurance. His brother opened and closed his mouth a few times, one finger raised as if to make a point, but for once, he was at a loss for words.  
  
“Trix is so right.” Miss Ella offered enthusiastically. “Food is amaze-balls!” He didn’t know what that meant, but he felt inclined to disagree on principle alone.  
  
“I know this is strange for you, little brother, but you need more than sleep to replenish yourself. This will help.” Amenadiel insisted in that patronizing, ‘soothing’ voice he used when he was trying to act the part of the big brother to assert himself. He hated that tone and he glared at him in reply. Amenadiel sighed.  
  
“Why don’t we just let him decide what he’s comfortable with on his own?” Dr. Linda suggested, looking expectantly around the room. 

Everyone fell silent again. It was stifling. Suddenly their intentions felt like a snare, and he didn’t like it. He needed space. Without even fully realizing it, he was out from under the child and retreating to the room Samael had given him to use. His breathing was coming in staggering rapid gasps, and the pain in his chest increased. Worse, he could feel the sting of tears as memories started to flood in. 

He didn’t want to put anything in his mouth. He didn’t want to be forced. But he could feel hands on him, he could feel his light being drawn out, and he could taste the gag in his mouth as he bit down… 

_No, no, no, no. _

His legs were weakening, and he was shaking. Feeling a presence behind him, he whirled around, expecting an attack. Afraid he wouldn’t be able to fend them off.  
  
“You forgot Miss Alien.” Miss Trixie said, holding the toy out. Gently, she placed it in his arms and backed up. “Remember, she helps with bad dreams, not just when you’re sleeping, silly.” She smiled encouragingly at him.  
  
Almost on instinct, he wrapped his trembling arms around it and held it to his chest. His back hit the wall and he slid down as his legs buckled, and he found himself curling in around it, clenching and unclenching his fingers around the toy. It was soft and warm, and... safe. His breathing started to slow and deepen. The plush welcoming fluff was calming and he focused on the feeling of it, letting his fingers dig in just to feel something pleasant; something that existed apart from his memories, and he found himself reconnecting to the present. After a moment he looked up at Miss Trixie with a mixture of confusion and gratitude.  
  
“Yes,” he whispered, “It seems you’re right.”  
  
***  
  
Maze grumbled at her phone as she read the latest update from Trix. She needed the little Hellion to spy on him, not make friends with him! She was getting tired of telling the humans he was dangerous. But he was already working them over - playing the role he needed to in order to get them on his side.  
  
Manipulative bastard.  
  
She resisted the urge to throw her phone as she glared as the last message her supposed spy had sent her.  
  
“I gave him Miss Alien. He needed her.”  
  
What the Hell?  
  
Angrily, she put the phone away, and leaned back in her chair. Hanging out in an empty apartment filled with biblical shit praising Lucifer’s asshole Dad while everyone else was falling for the Murder Angel was getting old. At least some of the ‘nerd loot’ was interesting. The Bat’leth was pretty wicked looking. Maze only knew that was what it was called because Ella told her.  
  
Along with a recounting of how she had gotten it from an ex who made the thing in college... and how he used to romance her with love letters written in Klingon.   
  
She wished she could use it on angels. The feathered creep she met at the storage facility earlier was bound to be by sooner or later... it would be fun to gut him with that thing... if only. But her demon blade would do nicely. Thinking about that, she started to twirl it in anticipation when she felt her phone vibrate in her cleavage.  
  
Pulling it out, she saw it was a text from Ella.   
  
“Yo, girl! Thanks for guarding my fortress. Sending hugs your way!”

Maze rolled her eyes. She didn’t need hugs. She needed to kill something. Then, before she could put it away, her phone vibed again.  
  
“Friendsgiving at Lucifer’s tomorrow. You should come.”  
  
What? Why would she... Then another message popped up.  
  
“I know you said you’re staying away from Michael, but you should give him a chance. And I know you’re gonna groan, but he’s been hugging Miss Alien all morning, and it’s just too cute!!! 😇😍”  
  
This time Maze _did _throw her phone. Fortunately - or unfortunately - it crashed into the couch, and Mazikeen groaned. _Cute? _That was his angle? _Cute!?! _He was not cute! He was dangerous!!!   
  
Glowering at Ella’s churchy shit, the demon roared and punched the wall. She was never going to convince the religious moron not to trust him.  
  
And she wasn’t going to any stupid ‘Friendsgiving’ either.  
  
She was staying right here, and when Mr. Tall Dark and Vile came looking for Ella, she was gonna gut him. _Then _she could worry about Mîchael.

Maze really hated angels.

**_Song Title:_** [Dream](https://youtu.be/BWu7JDETw_I) by Imagine Dragons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early post because I will be busy the next 3 days. 🙂
> 
> Sandalphon is a cruel monster. 😡
> 
> Ironically, Maze is doing Michael the most good by hunting him down. 🤣
> 
> This chapter was painful to write. 🥺
> 
> But at least Mi has Trix, who knows exactly what he needs. 👽
> 
> Hope you like. 
> 
> Comments, feedback, etc... = happy author. ❤️
> 
> Listening to the title song while writing legit made me cry. 😭 I’m pathetic.


	32. An Ineffable Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe talks to Michael. Daniel: Mindless Drone or Double Agent?

Chloe needed to get away. She needed space. Every time she looked at Amenadiel, she felt her anger flare up again. She knew she was being irrational, that Amenadiel had obviously learned his lesson... but DAMN IT!  
  
People died because of his actions! He tried to - no - _suceeded _in a conspiracy to MURDER his own brother. The fact that Lucifer “got better” hardly seemed like something that should factor in, here. Trixie could have been killed... _would_ have been, if not for Lucifer.  
  
Sitting next to Amenadiel while he tried to convince everyone that food would somehow fix everything was not how she wanted to spend her Saturday. She wanted to be with Lucifer. She wanted to support him. And kiss him... and just... be there for him. But apparently that meant dealing with the jackass who brought Malcolm back to life.  
  
Michael was having issues with him too, she noticed. At the moment, he was avoiding Amenadiel by staying on the balcony, Miss Alien firmly in his arms.  
  
That seemed like a good idea to Chloe.  
  
Standing up, she marched across the room, let herself out, and closed the sliding door a little more roughly than intended. Startled by the sudden sound, everyone turned to look her way, and she sent Amenadiel a withering scowl by way of explanation. In response, the angel shrank away from her glare. It was satisfying.  
  
Then she heard Michael snicker from next to her. And her anger spiked again. He wasn’t entirely off her naughty list, either. She shot him a reprimanding look, and his amusement dropped away.  
  
“Do you want me to leave?” He half whispered, curling in on himself and pulling the toy to his chest.  
  
Chloe couldn’t help but feel bad the moment he asked it. “No. I’m just... upset.” She sighed.  
  
He looked at her silently, his expression utterly unreadable.  
  
Chloe turned to look at the city, taking a deep breath. For a while, neither said anything, and Chloe found herself looking his way more than once. He was holding Miss Alien and staring at the sky. She felt conflicted and sad for him. On the one hand, he betrayed Lucifer. He was probably the reason her Devil had so many issues. On the other hand... he had been through Hell, too. And it had obviously messed him up. Her nurturing nature and her protective instincts were at war with her every time she thought about it.  
  
“He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster. When you gaze long into the abyss the abyss also gazes into you.”  
  
Chloe stared at him. “What?”  
  
“Professor Friedrich said that.” Chloe blinked. Michael sighed, thought for a moment, then brightened up. “His other name is... Neitzsche, if I remember it right. Very nice man. Hates Father. Sam would like him.”  
  
Chloe gaped for a bit, surprised to hear him talking to her at all... but it was just the two of them, she realized. Too many people probably overwhelmed him. Whatever the reason, if he was willing to talk, Chloe wasn’t going to lose the opportunity to understand him better. “Either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain?” She offered with a wry smile in reply.  
  
Michael looked at her with wide eyes. “Yes! Exactly!”  
  
Chloe laughed when she realized he thought she came up with that on her own. “ummm... someone else said that... in a movie. A Batman movie.” She quickly explained.  
  
Michael pulled back and tilted his head. “Bat man? Is this some new byproduct of evolution I’m unaware of?” He looked mildly distressed by the notion, and Chloe laughed even harder. She couldn’t help noticing him pout a little over her reaction.  
  
Coming out here was definitely a good idea. Michael was much easier to be around than Amenadiel.  
  
“He’s a... fictional character.” She chuckled.  
  
The archangel nodded slowly. “From a book?” Chloe didn’t have the heart to correct him.  
  
“Something like that. Do you fight a lot of monsters?" She ventured.  
  
“It’s part of the job.” He answered bitterly. Chloe understood. It was kinda part of her job, too. He turned to look at the city again, with that same unreadable expression on his face as he bit his lower lip.  
  
“I know the feeling.” She smiled ruefully. “So... about what you were saying... Do you think you’re one? A monster?” She asked, worried about what he might say.  
  
Michael closed his eyes. He didn’t answer for a long time. Then when he looked at her again, his hands trembling slightly, his voice cracked as he spoke.  
  
“We all are.” A tear slipped from his eye as he turned away, and she could see him struggling to keep his breaths even.  
  
Chloe didn’t know what she had expected him to say, but hearing that from him, her heart ached.  
  
She came around to face him, offering a tender smile. “But you don’t want to be.” She guessed. Another tear escaped.  
  
Slowly, and deliberately so he would see it coming, she placed her hand on his. She didn’t know what happened to him, but it was pretty obvious he couldn’t handle being taken by surprise. She worked with more than enough victims of violent crimes to understand that. He stared with wide, confused eyes at her hand on his. “You are who you choose to be.” She quoted, secretly thanking Trixie for loving_ the Iron Giant_ so much. He looked at Miss Alien silently, but her words seemed to help, and the tension dissipate from him.  
  
After a moment, she let go and stepped back, sighing. It might be a mistake, but he was off the naughty list, she decided. Then she glanced in at Amenadiel. He was changing Charlie’s diaper, right in the middle of Lucifer’s living room... and her ridiculous, adorable, neat-freak partner was in a state of utter dismay over it.  
  
Chloe rolled her eyes affectionately.  
  
He still needed to earn her trust again, but she was tired of being mad at Amenadiel for something he had done when he was a different person.  
  
But... She suddenly remembered what Maze had warned them about. Something about Michael’s presence messing with people; messing with their thoughts. Remembering this, she was suspicious again.  
  
“So, apparently, you have a ‘Goodness Mojo,’ like Lucifer’s desire thing?” She asked, trying to be casual about it.  
  


Michael shrugged. “I don’t know what a mojo is... But if you mean my aura... you needn’t worry. My charms have no effect on you.”  
  
Chloe straightened up in alarm.  
  
“You are not beholden to anyone.” He stated, still watching the city.  
  
Chloe stood frozen in place, overwhelmed by what he said, and what it might mean when the sliding door to the balcony opened and Ella skipped out with a clipboard and notepaper asking her what she would be bringing for “Friendsgiving” tomorrow... and before she could interject, Michael had vanished, back into the penthouse, and - presumably - as far away from everyone’s talk of food as possible.  
  
Chloe sighed. She was just going to have to ask him about that later.  
  
***  
  
Dan was happy. He was at peace with himself, free from guilt, knowing what was right and feeling only a desire to do it well. He remembered his life before was filled with pain and doubt. This was better. Coming out of the shower, wearing a fresh set of white linens, he was overjoyed to know that he was going to help everyone else to know this feeling of completeness.  
  
The boss was waiting for him. He had a troubled look in his eyes, but at the sight of Dan, he brightened up. “You’re looking better. Your other clothes are in the wash. We will return them to you later. In the meantime, if there is anything you require, you need only ask.” He smiled pleasantly at Dan.  
  
Anything he needed? He didn’t want or need anything. Honestly, he didn’t even care about his clothes. “Thanks... I’m good. But if there is anything_ I _can do for you..?”  
  
The angel in front of him offered a wistful sigh. “There is, actually.” Dan’s heart filled with joy. “I’ve lost my brother... Mîkā’el. You would call him Michael?” Dan’s heart skipped a beat. Michael. _Bloody feathers and a broken angel laying on the floor. _He felt a momentary wave of confusion at the memory.  
  
Zerachiel looked at him compassionately. “You found him, didn’t you?”  
  
Dan blinked. _I need to protect the archangel. _The thought surprised him.  
  
“Can you tell me where he is now?” The boss continued.  
  
Dan didn’t want to believe that he meant to hurt Michael... _Severed broken bloody wings!_ “You want to help him?” He asked sincerely. Hopefully.  
  
Zerachiel nodded. “That is all I want. I wish to free him from Father’s control, just as I freed you from your guilt and gave you purpose.”  
  
That made sense. Dan smiled, ready to answer, but a voice in the back of his head was screaming, rebelling at the thought of giving up Michael. When it came down to it, he didn’t _want_ to tell Zerachiel. But the boss was restoring Paradise! And then a strange idea crossed Dan’s mind. _He doesn’t need Michael to free humanity. _Dan could keep him a secret if he wanted. And he did. He _wanted_ to keep the broken angel he had found safe.  
  
“Ella found him, not me. She told me about it. I thought she was crazy. I would check her apartment.” He offered, surprised by the lie even as he said it. Zerachiel sighed.  
  
“I see... but if you didn’t find him... how did you come across Father?” Dan felt better. This was an easier topic.  
  
“Chlo went up to Washington, thinking that Michael was Lucifer. He was her partner... until he left. Anyway, she talked to a guy about what he saw, then after she came back, I got a call from the same guy, who told me about a Craigslist post that suspiciously matched her investigation, so I came up here to question him since he was a suspect… turned out he was… well…” He paused, shaking his head. “He was _Him.”_ Dan used to be friends with the false deity in the cage. But Zerachiel had shown him how selfish He was.  
  
“I see.” The angel laughed. “He certainly is suspect. On that note, I actually have a task for you.”  
  
Then Zerachiel gave him the very important job of keeping the parasite’s vessel alive and healthy. And he was happy to do it. Smiling pleasantly, he entered the dungeon, humming a tune and carrying a fresh change of clothes. Clean white linens like the ones so generously given to him.  
  
“Hello, Elohim. The boss thinks it might be bad for your vessel’s health to remain in mud soaked clothes. I’ve brought a change.” He announced serenely as he came in.  
  
“Thank you. I could do with a change.” The prisoner replied calmly. Dan approached, extended his arm through the bars, and handed the garments over.  
  
The Prisoner grabbed him!  
  
And pulled him in so quickly, he didn’t even have a chance to scream before he felt fingers at his temples as an immense presence fill the room, then everything went haywire in his head.  
  
_Charlotte, Chloe, Trixie... _all of his friends flashed before him... they were counting on him. Even _Lucifer. _Somehow, he had forgotten. Elohim let go, and Dan sank to his knees, overwhelmed by feelings of guilt, shame, and remorse. Feelings that, just moments before, had not existed in him. And the weight of them made him want to cry.  
  
Elohim sat down to watch him, and after a few minutes, when Dan finally met His eyes, He sighed. “Would you have preferred if I left you as you were?”  
  
Dan was startled by the question... as he was? Right, he hadn’t been himself. He had been happy, though... but it wasn’t _him. _Shaking his head, he looked at the divine being beside him. “I...It was strange, like I was happy, but... _wrong. _I don’t want to go back to that ever again.” He shuddered at the thought.  
  
“Thank you, my friend.” The other replied, sounding genuinely relieved. “That’s very good to hear. You know, while under his influence you were as the humans in the Garden of Eden had been before they discovered the...” He chuckled, “ah..._ apple_ on knowledge.”  
  
“Wait,” Dan looked at him in confusion. “I thought Lucifer said there _was _no apple.”  
  
“That’s correct.” God shook his head in mirth. “It’s a metaphor._ Samael _was the apple._ And _a serpent, too, I suppose... in a way.” He laughed again.  
  
“Wait, are you telling me that having sex with Lucifer gave them freewill?” Dan balked, suddenly disgusted. Was _that _the plan? No wonder Lucifer had Daddy issues!  
  
“No, no. It was their _decision_ to _defy _me that set them free. I hardwired you humans so that you could be tempted... so that you could choose. Freedom or sanctuary. Samael was the temptation that inspired them to break away. I had very little to do with that... besides allowing it to happen, that is.” He smirked, apparently amused. Dan was relieved to hear that. It was still weird, though.  
  
“So... if I had been_ tempted _by something... or someone... I could’ve gotten free?” With that question, came a very unwanted visual of being seduced by Lucifer while being mind-controlled, and he shuddered at the thought. Thank God it hadn’t come to that! Literally.  
  
“Yes. But you were already starting to break... somehow.” God smiled fondly at him. “You truly are a remarkable human.”  
  
Both were silent for a bit after that. Dan looked at his lap. Remarkable? Him? He didn’t feel like it. He felt... _used._  
  
“So... You want me to see if I can find a way to bust you out so we can blow this joint?” He asked, ready for a subject change.  
  
“No. I have a better plan. You might say it’s... _ineffable?” _Elohim raised an eyebrow expectantly and giggled at His awful joke while Dan groaned. Then, clearing His throat and adopting a more serious expression, He looked at His friend curiously. “How are your acting skills, Daniel?”  
  
***  
  
“He looks like this... except with blue eyes, and no facial hair.” Sandalphon held up a picture of Lucifer he had found online. He hated using a picture of the Lightbringer to look for the evil twin, but Mîchael had never been photographed... and the paintings were all wrong, almost always giving him blonde hair.  
  
The receptionist looked at the picture and lit up. “Lucifer Morningstar?” She chirped dreamily. Sandalphon smiled, his opinion of the woman improved by her reaction.  
  
“It’s his twin brother I’m looking for, actually...”  
  
“He has a twin?!?” Her expression became distant... and if he wasn’t mistaken... was that drool? His opinion of her soured again. He was tired of these interactions. Every hospital in the area had the same response to his inquiries.  
  
“Yes.” He huffed, “Has he been admitted here?”  
  
The woman gave him a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry, hon. I would’ve known if someone who looked like Mr. Morningstar was admitted.” Judging from her mannerism, he didn’t doubt it. Shrugging, he excused himself and left.  
  
He hadn’t really expected the hospitals to have him... but he was worried. Well, sort of worried. They cut off Mîchael’s wings. The idiots. He was too drained to heal properly, and wounds that severe would probably kill a mortal. Zerachiel would be furious if they had accidentally killed his pet.  
  
Sandalphon checked his phone to see if his spy had gotten anything from tailing the human, Ella Lopez yet... but there was still no word from her. Which meant his spy was probably dead, he decided.  
  
Oh, well. He was just going to have to go back there again himself. Want something done right, do it yourself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fact: The Neitzsche quote was the inspiration for the Batman quote. 
> 
> Fact: Lucifer is part of DC comics... like Batman.
> 
> Fact: This chapter was modified significantly thanks to a comment from Glimare. (You’re so right about Dan).
> 
> Fact: the author loves comments because they can literally fuel the writing.
> 
> Fact: you are all awesome! Thanks for reading.
> 
> Fact: Sporks are the hermaphrodites of eating utensils.


	33. Cinnamon and Spies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friendsgiving. Hey, What’s Remiel been up to all this time?

Linda called it an intervention. Everyone would bring something, then they would set Michael at the table and he wouldn’t be able to resist trying something.  
  
At least, that’s what Amenadiel kept insisting. Ella wasn’t too sure about that, but hey, it was still an excellent excuse to have a get-together with her friends, and she was always down for that.

“Yo, guys! We tots need to make this a tradition!” Ella announced as she came in carrying a tray of cinnamon rolls. She had tried to think of something unique. Lucifer and Linda seemed to have the traditional foods covered, and she knew angels loved sweets. Or at least _these _angels did.  
  
“That sounds like a lovely idea, Ella.” Linda agreed as Ella set her contribution on the table she was pretty sure Lucifer didn’t even have yesterday. She set it next to a plate of strange looking chocolate covered... something.

“Hey, what’s this?” She queried as she picked one up, taking a nibble.

“Chocolate covered coriander!” Amenadiel announced as the strange soapy flavor hit and Ella immediately regretted her actions. “Made it myself.” The angel explained proudly. Ella resisted the urge to gag as she quickly retreated to get a...

Lucifer, wearing a kiss the cook apron, was suddenly at her side, handing her a glass of amber liquid, and she took a desperate gulp. The whiskey effectively burned the taste away, and Lucifer grinned at her. “Better?”

“Dude! Thanks. You’re a life saver!” She breathed softly, not wanting to hurt Amenadiel’s feelings.  
  
Lucifer laughed in reply before he turned to Chloe, a hopeful look in his eyes. “Did you get my text, Detective?”  
  
Grinning, Chloe held up a party sized bag of Cool Ranch Puffs and a tub of Nutella. “Are we sure this is for Michael?” She teased.  
  
“Absolutely not! Those are for me!” He declared, grabbing the treats, and taking them into the kitchen. Glancing in, she noticed the meal was pretty much ready.  
  
“Where is he, anyway?” Chloe wondered, looking around. Ella felt embarrassed, she hadn’t even realized he wasn’t out.  
  
“In his room, under the blankets.” Trixie informed, skipping up.  
  
“He’s not coming out today, so he says.” Lucifer sighed and shook his head.   
  
“We need to coax him out then.” Amenadiel offered unhelpfully, and oh, dear... it almost looked like he was contemplating force feeding his brother. Nope. Ella wasn’t gonna let that happen.  
  
“I’ll get him.” Trixie announced happily, as she twirled and bounced off. Amenadiel and several others followed. Ella went too, keeping an eye on him.  
  
As they reached Michael’s room, they saw a lump under the blankets, with Trixie worming her way under the covers to gain access. “Hi, I like your blanket fort.” No response from the lump. “Food is ready, you coming out?”  
  
“No.” came a muffled reply from the lump.  
  
“Okay,” Trixie chirped from under the blankets. “You don’t have to. It’s okay if you’re scared. Not everyone is brave enough to try new things.”  
  
The lump snorted in reply. Ella bit back on a giggle.  
  
“Brother, please. This isn’t like you. You _never_ turn down a challenge. You aren’t going to let _food _defeat you, are you?” Amenadiel tried. Suddenly, a pillow crashed into his face with so much force he fell backward. Looking up in shock after the pillow fell away, he was greeted by the sight of Michael glaring at him, hand still outstretched from the throw, and his other arm holding onto Miss Alien. His hair was a mess again, Ella noticed fondly.  
  
Lucifer started to laugh, leaning against the wall. “Well thrown, Mī! Next time, try something sturdier or you’re never going to get him to shut up.” He grinned at Amenadiel, who stood, brushing himself off, a bewildered smirk on his face.  
  
“He’s right, you know, I’m not going to quit unless you come out here and make me.” He crossed his arms and looked challengingly at his brother. Ella rolled her eyes.  
  
Michael was so busy glaring at Amenadiel he didn’t notice Trixie grabbing bundles of blankets until she leapt off the bed and charged out of the room with them, shouting, “Catch me if you can!” He looked at her in disbelief before he jumped off the bed and tackled her just outside the room, grabbing onto his blankets, his other hand still clutching the toy. Then he froze, apparently realizing he had left the room and was now surrounded. The blankets fell to the floor.  
  
Ella walked up and took his shaking free hand in hers and smiled up at him. “Come on.” She offered, leading him back to his room. “You can stay in here if you want.” He followed and sat on the bed, looking lost, then she walked out again, and headed to the table. She picked up a cinnamon roll and, on her way back, a blanket. Everyone watched her, confused or interested. Amenadiel moved to intercept, but a firm hand from Linda stopped him.

The way everyone was acting, it reminded Ella of her family... right after she came back from the psych ward. When she had decided to lie to them, telling them she didn’t see Rae-Rae anymore... when they all thought they knew what she needed better than her. It pissed her off when they made decisions for her, and she wasn’t going to stand by and let her friends make the same mistake with Michael.

Sitting next to him, she placed the blanket around his shoulders and smiled brightly, then she ripped the roll in half and held out a piece to him. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want, but if you _do _try something, I recommend this.”  
  
Michael deflated as he looked at her with frightened eyes. “I...” he shook his head, closed his eyes, and bit his lower lip, before trying again. “I don’t like things in my mouth.” He admitted quietly. Ella’s heart cracked a bit. She could only imagine why that might be.  
  
“I understand, but this is different. Just one bite. If you still don’t like it, I’ll help you rebuild your blanket fort.” Ella reassured gently, still holding it out.  
  
Michael took an unsteady breath and glanced out the doorway, where everyone else was still watching. Lucifer was coming in now, shooting Amenadiel a warning glare as he did. “Very well, just one...” He relented, looking defeated.  
  
Ella put the roll in his hand, and he looked at it like it had three heads. He swallowed nervously. “What am I to do?” He asked tremulously.   
  
By way of reply, she took a bite of her half, grinning excitedly at him. Slowly, he brought it to his mouth, then looking uncertainly at Ella munching away, he took a diminutive bite, mimicking her actions. His eye grew wide as the flavor hit his taste buds and he pulled the roll away as if it had sprouted legs to go with the three heads. Then, after a pause, he started to chew and his entire demeanor seemed to melt as his eyes closed contentedly and he let out a happy moan, only to catch himself and bring his hand – still clutching Miss Alien – to his mouth, stopping short.   
  
Looking up sheepishly, then looking down at the cinnamon roll in wonder, he swallowed, still following Ella’s lead, then sighed. “Okay, this isn’t so bad.”  
  
“Not so bad? Judging from your reaction, it’s a bit more than not so bad.” Lucifer leered.  
  
Michael nodded almost imperceptibly then took another bite, much less carefully. Then another, and before he knew it, the whole thing had been consumed. “It’s gone.” He realized sadly.  
  
“Dude, I got you.” Ella said, jumping up and rushing out to grab the rest. The others were starting to dish up food too now, she noticed, seemingly realizing that he didn’t need an audience. As she passed Amenadiel he placed his hand on her shoulder and smiled warmly.

“Thank you.” He gushed. Ella nodded and returned to Michael’s room. Lucifer was still there, explaining the intricate flavors in alcohol.

“More?” Ella suggested setting the plate down.  
  
Michael lit up. “Please!”   
  
***  
  
Remiel had been keeping an eye on Gabriel and Raziel in turns for some time now, with no real evidence to suggest treachery. At one point, Azrael had approached Gabriel, asking to see Mîchael… and he had said that their brother was out on a mission for father. Azrael seemed annoyed by this, but she left, too busy to press the issue, most likely. Remiel considered asking him about that herself, but she didn’t want to alert him to the fact that she was suspect.   
  
At first, Remiel had considered that maybe Gabriel was getting their brother out of the way so he could take his place. But it became evident rather quickly that Gabe hated filling in for Mîchael. And he complained about it all the time. He complained far too much, and really, someone needed to talk to him about his behavior.  
  
“I don’t even have time to go surfing.” She heard him grumble on more than one occasion. Also, “I was looking forward to seeing that pretty señorita in Leon again. But alas, it may never happen.” And, “I could be sailing in Panama City, instead, I’m dealing with this.” Or, “I’d rather be cliff diving in Acapulco.”  
  
Remiel wasn’t sure if she was more amused or disgusted with him. He was the “Hero” of God, and the messenger... but as far as Remiel was concerned, he was nearly as bad as _Lucifer! _And truthfully, the only reason those two hadn’t bumped into one another at some ridiculous human gathering yet was that their regional preferences were different. Thank Father for that! There would probably be nothing left of the Earth after they finished with what they would call an argument.  
  
Raziel was a different matter. Remiel couldn’t think of a single motivation she might have for hurting Mîchael, but her behavior was more suspicious. She kept to herself more than usual… even turning down a bit of ‘girl time’ with Ariel, Haniel, and Jophiel, which was something she never did. So, after a while, Remiel had started spying on Gabe less, and watching Raz more. Which was boring.

It was really..._ really _boring.  
  
Raziel managed prayers. She redirected the ones meant for the most common recipients to other channels, ensuring they would be heard. She also blocked out the ones that were pointless, like, ‘Dear God, please let me win the Lottery.’ It was, no doubt, a time consuming task, but it was also a very inactive one, and spying on someone while they essentially meditated endlessly was mind numbing… but finally, something happened.  
  
Raziel suddenly opened her eyes, a startled, panicked look on her face. She stood up, paced a few times, closed her hands into fists, relaxed them again… and screamed silently into her hands. Then she spread her grey and white wings and took flight. Remiel followed at a safe, secret distance as the Angel of Secrets flew down to Earth. She felt a little proud. She was essentially spying on _the _spy, keeping secrets from the secret keeper. It was exhilarating.  
  
Remiel stayed back as her sister landed in a quaint village in the state of Washington, and wandered into a café. Last time Remiel had been to Earth, Amenadiel had pointed out to her that her preferred attire was entirely too noticeable, so she chose to remain out of sight, unwilling to suffer the blue canvas leggings again. 

Raziel was wearing a simple white dress, so it was close enough to human fashion not to draw too much attention. Well, she _did _draw attention, just not the same kind. The humans would probably describe her as a ‘hot Italian babe’ ... or something, and her white dress, though not specifically designed to show off her figure, didn’t hide it either. Two men ogled her, one whistled, and one tried to grab her hindquarters. The last one regretted his error immediately.  
  
Remiel, on the other hand, received curious gaping from the human child who spotted her lurking up to the human structure. As she eased her way in, staying out of her sister’s line of sight, she could hear Raziel talking to someone. “What do you mean you’ve captured Father? That’s impossible.” Her voice was hushed, so as not to attract the ear of the nearby humans… but Remiel’s hearing was exceptional.  
  
“Normally, I would agree with you.” A deep masculine voice replied. The voice was familiar… but she couldn’t quite place it. “But he doomed himself when he decided to visit Earth and live like a human.” The voice laughed.  
  
“Live like a human?” Raziel echoed in hushed tones. Remiel peaked around the corner and a waiter bumped into her.  
  
“Sorry.” The human said, pausing to look at her in confusion. “You need a table?”  
  
“No, I do not require seating. Please continue on as you were.” She replied curtly, annoyed that the interaction had caused her to miss some of the conversation. The human shrugged and went out into the café, rolling his eyes. Considering how silly she looked hovering in shadows, Remiel quickly slid into a booth that allowed her view of Raziel, but was obscured enough from view that it might keep her presence hidden.  
  
“This is going too far, Zerachiel.” Raziel said, her voice sounding slightly panicked. She shook her head. 

Zerachiel? That was impossible. He had been destroyed during the rebellion! Hadn’t he?  
  
“You know perfectly well I’ve been planning on freeing the Silver City from His tyranny. Why is this suddenly too much for you to handle? Getting cold feet, little sister?” The other voice - which really _was _Zerachiel’s - retorted. Remiel felt herself grow cold.  
  
“I… I don’t want for Father to be hurt. What you are proposing… I… can’t.” Raziel sounded clearly distressed now.  
  
“Fine. You’ve implicated yourself enough. If you wish to stand by, I won’t force you. Just stay out of my way.” With that, the person she had come to see stood up, and Remiel caught a good look at him. It was like looking at a ghost. Zerachiel looked the same. He was dressed differently, but everything else was as it had always been. Sighing, he left, an air of dissatisfaction about him. Soon after, Raziel flew off as well.  
  
Remiel sat in her booth a few minutes more, wondering what to do. She was in a daze. Father was captured. Mîchael had been tortured. A destroyed brother was still alive, the Angel of Secrets was involved, how far did this go? Remiel suddenly wondered who she could trust. Amenadiel. She could trust him. And Duma. Maybe Azrael? Then she snorted at the irony, as she realized that she could trust the Devil, too. But with Raziel implicated, she couldn’t update them with prayers, and she didn’t have time to visit Amenadiel if she was going to trail their supposedly dead brother.  
  
But... when she started to leave, she realized his scent had vanished. _Raziel!_ Did she know Remiel had followed her? Was she watching right now? If so, flying to Amenadiel was out. She couldn’t risk leading them to Mîchael. Not yet. Not until she dealt with her traitor sister. And with that thought, the Angel of the Hunt returned to the Silver City.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep... more fluff.  
Hope you’re enjoying the calm... the storm is a few chapters away.  
Menny got what he wanted... sort of. Will it fix everything? 🤣 No.  
Yes. Cinnamon rolls will be a thing, now. 😋  
Poor Remi... how is she going to deal with this?🙁  
And let’s take a moment to morn the loss of Gabe’s free time.😔
> 
> I’ve joined discord. 😀 Now I’m a bit more accessible.


	34. Fire and Ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The brothers finally talk 
> 
> Note: my short fic, ‘the Fall’ is the rough draft for this chapter... a lot has been added and/or changed since then. 🙂

_“I see now why you brought me here.” Mîchael said, a sorrowful look in his eyes. “It was to distract me, to lead me away. You manipulated me by offering hope, but you never intended to make amends with Father, did you?”_

_Samael was crushed. He knew it would upset his brother, but actually seeing the look of betrayal on his face was too much to bare. “I only meant to shield you...” He tried to explain._

_“I AM the SHIELD! I am the protector of Heaven, tasked with safe guarding the Silver City. It is not for YOU to protect me from YOUR own misguided actions!” He roared, drawing his sword._

_“No, you don’t understand!” Samael pleaded taking a defensive step back, a spike of fear surging through him. He knew that if his gentle brother chose to raise arms against him, he wasn’t likely to win. He could never bring himself to hurt His Mī._

_“I only want for us to be free. Not to be His tools; His puppets.” He spat the word ‘puppets’ with venomous disgust. “He intends to use us, to turn me into His poison and bind you with invisible golden chains to His throne, and what He calls ‘purpose.’ But we both know what it really is. He plans to make you a prisoner to your so-called ‘command.’ Is that what you want?”_

_Mîchael’s sword lowered a bit and the anguish on his face was undeniable. “It isn’t about wanting. It isn’t about what I, or you, or even about what Father wants. It’s about what is necessary.” Mîchael took a deep breath as he tried to steady himself and he looked at his beloved twin desperately. “Please. Don’t make me fight you, Sammy.” His voice cracked as he reached out his hand, an offering, and a prayer. “Come back with me willingly so we can make peace. Stop the madness.”_

_It felt as if Samael’s world had crashed in around him. He was doing this for Mîchael more than anything else. Sure, he hated what Father had planned for him, but if it was just that, he could live with it. What he couldn’t live with was what Dear Old Dad had planned for his twin. He knew Mîchael didn’t want it; would hate it. He would be miserable. His brother’s only chance at happiness was to convince their Father to let them live their own lives._

_To have freewill._

_But of course, Mîchael, always the good son, the responsible one… he could never see it that way. So Samael was going to have to fight him, because he was unwilling to give up. Maybe, even if he lost, the message would live on. Maybe change would still come in time, and that was better than nothing._

_“I can’t.” Samael drew his own sword and watched as orange flames erupted from the blade. “I’m doing this for all of us. For freewill.”_

_“You will lose.” Mîchael raised his blade again and let it light up with its own electric blue fire._

_“Not if you fight by my side.” Samael tried one last time._

_“True. But then all of creation would lose in the end.” His face shifted into one of cold indifference. Samael knew that look. It was the expression he wore when he was preparing to do something he really didn’t want to do. He wasn’t His Mī when he was like this. He was Father’s Warrior. _

_“So we’re really doing this.” He considered retreating, but he knew it would be useless._

_“I’m bringing you to Father, whether you come willingly or not.” He stated coldly. _

_…Samael tried to put distance between them…_

_But someone was shaking him…_

_Sammy... Samael, are you awake?_

“Sam?”  
  
Lucifer blinked groggily, the fog of sleep still clinging to him. Mîchael was at his side, wide eyed with concern, nudging his shoulder. “W... wha?” Lucifer fumbled, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.  
  
“You were distressed.” His twin offered softly. Was this opposite day... night? Mîchael was awake when he was sleeping? Maybe Amenadiel’s crazy plan had actually worked. His brother was kneeling by the bed, a worried look on his face, curls rumpled in classic bed head fashion, and he still had Beatrice’s peculiar toy in his hand.  
  
“What time is it?” Lucifer yawned.  
  
His brother tilted his head, confused. “Night time?” He got up and stood back, looking out toward the balcony as if to confirm his assessment. Lucifer shook his head.   
  
“Never mind.” Stretching, he considered going back to sleep, but blast, he was thoroughly awake now. And so was Mī... “Is there something you need?” He asked, blinking the sleep away.  
  
Mîchael fidgeted in his spot for a moment, deciding how to proceed. “No.” He finally settled on, voice and body language withdrawn. Lucifer wasn’t buying it.  
  
“Out with it, what do you want?”  
  
Mîchael looked at Lucifer for a long time. He still had that look in his eyes like he wasn’t sure he believed what he was seeing. “I... um... can we talk?”  
  
Lucifer froze. Talk. Was he finally going to tell him what happened? Was he going to say he was leaving, or... Bloody Hell, why now, in the middle of the night?  
  
“I’m going to need a drink.” Lucifer stood up, stretched and, wearing only boxers, he made his way to the bar. Mîchael just watched him cautiously. “Well, come on.” Lucifer huffed. “Better to get this over with.”  
  
His brother followed, taking a seat by his side and watched him pour and sip from a tumbler of scotch, all the while avoiding eye contact. Lucifer schooled his expression into one of patience. It was difficult. Patience wasn't his thing. “It’s okay, Mī, what do you want to say?”  
  
Mîchael bit his lower lip, closed his eyes, and focused on his breathing as he pulled the plushy up to his chest. When he opened his eyes, they were glued to the toy. “I’m sorry.”  
  
“You needn’t...”   
  
“Yes. I do. I need to say this.” He locked his eyes on his brother. “I am so very sorry, Sam.” His voice cracked and tears started to pool in his blue eyes, and once again, Lucifer felt the now familiar pain in his chest. He shook his head and took another sip. Oh, how he wished he could get thoroughly trolleyed right then.  
  
“It wasn’t your fault. I’m the one who screwed up.” He insisted. Mîchael shook his head, but Lucifer wasn’t done. “I forced an impossible choice on you. I expected you to choose us over the needs of everyone else. I ruined everything, like I always do. I’m poison to everything I touch. I’m a monster...”  
  
“Stop.” The authority in Mîchael’s voice surprised Lucifer. He had heard that tone directed at Amenadiel the other day, but having it directed at him was... unsettling. Mîchael shook his head and clenched his fists. “Every word you’re saying is a lie.”  
  
And here he thought his brother understood him, Lucifer thought furiously. “I do NOT lie!” He growled, eyes flashing.  
  
Mîchael pulled back, but only for a moment before he smiled sadly at him. “I know you don’t. You believe every bit of it. You believe all the hateful things everyone has been saying about you and it’s...” His voice cracked. “It’s all my fault.” He took a couple struggling breaths. “But you’re _not_ a monster. You’re _not _evil, and you’re _not _poison.”  
  
Now it was Lucifer’s turn to choke up. He tried to hide it with another drink. “You wouldn’t say that if you had seen...”   
  
“I _have _seen.” Lucifer stared at him in disbelief. “I’ve seen what your Manifestation of Will has done to you. And that’s my fault too. That you see yourself that way.” He looked away from his brother, shame and guilt evident in his posture.  
  
Lucifer was at a loss for words. Michael knew about self-actualization, called it _Manifestation of Will... _of course he knew, being all chummy with Dear Old Dad all this time. It bothered him. It bothered him that his brother had seen his Devil face. That he blamed himself. That he didn’t -couldn’t possibly - _understand._ “You are aware that it’s a reflection of _my own _self-hatred, right?” He snarled. His brother looked at him without answering, and he took a swig from the bottle, disregarding the glass altogether now.  
  
“It seems we have more in common than our siblings would like to admit, then.” Mîchael finally replied quietly. The two were silent for a while. Then he continued, even as he seemed to be fighting back tears and sniffing again. “You were right, you know.”  
  
“About Dad?”  
  
“All of it. I... I hate it. I hate having to be the one everyone is counting on, I hate knowing that if it comes to it, I need to be ready to do whatever it takes... After...” He sniffed and shook his head, blinking to try to keep the tears in. “After I had to cast you away... I knew…” He choked back a sob. Lucifer’s heart was hammering in his chest now, and he found himself torn between wanting to comfort his brother, and wrestling with his own emotional squall. “I could never do that again, hurt someone I cared about... so, so I decided to… to stop. Stop caring... Stop _feeling... _I couldn’t let anyone get too close, because if I did... I couldn’t...” He was crying openly now.  
  
“Oh, Mī,” Lucifer sighed, feeling his already frazzled heart crack.  
  
“And... it_ worked... _for a while, but… but I guess they never really _did_ go away. They were just waiting, and now... I can’t seem to _stop feeling,_ and it hurts… It hurts so much.” As his brother spoke, Lucifer felt the treacherous sting of tears threaten, but he pushed the feeling aside and placed a steadying hand on his brother’s shoulder.  
  
Lucifer hated that Mîchael had been suffering silently all this time. He wished he wouldn’t close in on himself. “Dr. Linda says it’s not healthy to avoid feelings... Perhaps if you want it to stop, we both need to let go of what was and move forward. No going backwards.” He suggested, parroting what the good doctor often said to him. 

Mîchael looked at him brokenly. “How?”

How? Good question. He didn’t know how. But... “We’re together now. That’s a start.” He took another gulp... mostly to mask his uncertainty.

Mîchael looked at the stuffed toy again. “I don’t belong here, Sam.”

Lucifer’s heart skipped a beat. “But you _want_ to.” He countered, almost desperate.

“You say that like I have a choice.” He half whispered, still staring at the toy, still avoiding eye contact.

Lucifer felt a familiar fire build up within him. “You _have _a choice, Mī! Would it kill you to choose your own happiness for once in your bloody life?” His voice held more of an edge than he wanted, and Mîchael tensed, his lower lip quivering, and tears trailing down his cheeks. He didn’t say anything in reply, but his silence was answer enough.

“So that’s it?” Lucifer asked - pleaded - feeling utterly defeated as his ire faded to resentment at the sight of his brother looking so completely trapped. “When this is over, what? You’re just going back to Him so He can use you again?” He felt his tears spilling out too now, but he couldn’t be bothered to care.

“I don’t... I... I’m sorry... I...” He stammered, shrinking in even more and struggling to breath.

“Mī, no. I... I understand.” He sighed, and his brother looked at him in surprise. “I must, or else I wouldn’t’ve gone back to Hell.” He admitted, feeling rotten. It felt like he was Falling all over again, and he felt like he deserved it. “Where I belong.”

“You don’t.” His brother shook his head adamantly.

“Don’t what?”

“Belong there...” Lucifer stared at him. “Maybe you’re right for Hell, but Hell isn’t right for you. Earth is better.” He stated resolutely

“Ooh, goody! Nonsense!” Lucifer stepped back and gesticulated in frustration. “You really _have_ spent too much time with Him.” He snorted contemptuously as he grabbed the bottle again. “What am I supposed to do with that?” Mī was quiet as Lucifer downed the remainder of its contents.

“Whatever feels right?” His twin finally offered unhelpfully.

“Of course you’d say that. Doing what’s right. Because that’s worked so well for you.” Lucifer grumped. Mîchael flinched at his words.

“I’m...” He almost looked panicked, as he started to offer another needless apology, but Lucifer cut him off, quick to put him at ease.

“I’m sorry, too.” He rasped, cutting him off. Mîchael took a deep breath and stood to leave. His shoulders were far too tense, and Lucifer didn’t want him to retreat yet; to leave the conversation like this. Instinctively, he took his brother by the hand, and when he turned to face him, biting his lip again, Lucifer tried to smile. “They don’t deserve you up there, you know. Earth is better for you, too.” Mîchael stared at him. “You could belong here.” Lucifer swallowed, nervous. “If you want.”

“I... Thank you.” He smiled softly back, at first shy, then almost playful. “When did you become so magnanimous?”  
  
“Oh, I’ve changed in a lot of ways. Stick around and I’ll happily enlighten you.” He announced proudly as he moved to adjust a stray curl from his brother’s forehead.  
  
Mîchael waved his hand at Lucifer’s attempt to tame his curls. “I see. I guess it isn’t just the facial fuzz and straightened hair.” He grinned as he reached up and tousled Lucifer’s hair by way of retort.  
  
Lucifer stepped back indignantly as he reached up to bring order to the madness left by his brother’s attack. “Well, yes, I am a rather classy Devil these days. You ought to consider getting your hair done too, tame those unruly locks.” He countered. “I know a fabulous hair stylist.”  
  
“I already cut my hair about a hundred years back, this is fine.” Michael shook his head and rolled his eyes.   
  
Lucifer grinned wickedly. “Very well, everyone thinks your curls are cute anyway, so if cute is what you’re going for...”  
  
Mîchael pulled back and glared at him. “I am _not_ cute! Why would you even say that?”  
  
Lucifer laughed uproariously. It felt good to tease his brother. It had been so long. And he almost let the conversation lie there... but... he still had a question of his own. And... well, better to get it over with.

“I... ah... I need to ask you something.” His brother cringed. But he pushed forward anyway. “When you... when I was... you said something...” _Don’t ever come back._ He couldn’t bring himself to say it. Mîchael’s tension melted and a look of understanding replaced it.

“I didn’t want them to hurt you again...” He replied softly, shrinking into himself again, and Lucifer felt his heart stop. He had been trying to protect him. Because _of course _he was. Lucifer felt the hole within him threaten to open up again. Then his brother continued to speak. “And... if you came back, everything would’ve been meaningless.”

“Meaningless? How?”

“You wanted to be free. That was only possible if you...” Mîchael took a stuttering breath. “... stayed _away.”_ Free. Was that what his brother thought he was? Free? Lucifer blinked back tears at the thought. Mîchael was trembling again. His Mī had driven him away so he could be free...

A part of him wanted to tell him... to correct him. Hell was anything _but _freedom. But he pushed the memories of landing there away. His Mī already blamed himself enough. He was never going to get him to forgive himself if Lucifer shared that with him now. Mind made up, he wrapped his arms around him and waited until he stopped trembling.

“Thank you for telling me.” He said. Mîchael nodded and offered a weak smile as Lucifer sat back, head reeling.  
  
The two sat, lost in thought for a bit before Lucifer remembered it was still night time. “I... ah… I’m going to pop off for a kip, if you don’t mind.” He said sleepily.  
  
Michael looked sheepish. “No, I should’ve let you sleep... but…” He looked at his twin hopefully.  
  
Lucifer paused from heading to his room. “Yes?”  
  
“Are there...” He glanced toward the kitchen. “Are there any more cinnamon rolls?”  
  
Lucifer chuckled. “No, you ate them all. But we can make more in the morning if that is what you desire.” He shook his head. This wasn’t going to be a thing now, was it?

_**Song Title:**_ [Fire and Ice](https://youtu.be/ve2pS-jxXz0) by Within Temptation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title song was where I first got the idea to write this.
> 
> Mī blames himself for everything. 🥺  
Luci blames himself for everything. 🥺
> 
> ...
> 
> They need couples therapy! 😀  
That wouldn’t be awkward at all. 😖
> 
> Also, I told you cinnamon rolls would be a thing!
> 
> I love comments feedback theorizing and suggestions!  
They make my heart happy.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and stay healthy! ❤️


	35. Strawberries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandi has a surprise waiting for him. Also, mom-mode Chloe, and Azrael yells at Gabriel.

Ella Lopez’s apartment was empty. No animals, no human… nothing. Sandalphon sighed in frustration. Breathing in to calm his growing agitation, he caught the whiff of Hell. From above. Instinctively, he unfurled his wings, creating a shield as the demon crashed onto him.  
  
Pulling back, his foot got caught in a strange human weapon - a curved double bladed device with what looked like three hand holds - and he fell back, drawing his wings up defensively.   
  
Mazikeen of the Lilim charged, demon blade flashing.  
  
Now he knew what had happened to his warrior. He wondered for a moment if he would need to go back to the beyond to retrieve her… but that was a concern for another time. In the present, there was a demon after him, seemingly hell-bent on settling the score between them, and it was all he could do to keep her at a distance.  
  
He could see now why she was Lucifer’s favored warrior. She was fierce.  
  
“How about a rematch?” She jeered as she feinted a left strike only to slide in passed his wing and go for his jugular. He caught her wrist with the blade less than an inch from his throat.  
  
“Why are you fighting me?” He demanded, pushing her off.  
  
Mazikeen seemed to anticipated this, however, because she responded by_ biting _onto his arm! That filthy little demon!  
  
Sandalphon cried out as he tried to shake her free, bringing his wing in to slash her open, but the angle was all wrong, and she wasn’t letting go. She snarled triumphantly through her mouthful of flesh, pulling out another knife, which he caught, only to realize it was a human blade.  
  
What?

It wasn’t until he felt a demon blade carving into his gut that he realized it was a decoy.  
  
“Get off!” He roared, throwing his weight around until she finally came loose, ripping a chunk from his arm as she came free. Sandalphon flinched at the pain and hissed as his vision blurred. Now he knew where the expression ‘fight like a demon’ came from.  
  
Mazikeen spit, dropping her human appearance in the process. Blade in hand, and mouth covered in blood she looked every bit the Hellish beast she was.  
  
Sandalphon suddenly regretted letting her live last time. Apparently, she had been paying attention to his fighting technique.  
  
Edging back nervously as she advanced, he realized to his dismay that he was not winning. He was losing blood quickly, and the human wasn’t even around. There was no point in staying. Growling in frustration, he spread his wings and slipped into the folds of reality. As he vanished from the apartment, he felt a gust of wind from her blade, just barely missing him.  
  
In his harried escape, he wasn’t paying attention to where he went, but when he stumbled onto the ground and tucked his wings away, he found himself on an empty street, and before he knew what was happening, he toppled over, disoriented from the blood loss. He could hear frantic steps rapidly approaching as he blanked out; one last thought creeping into his mind.  
  
“Well played, demon.”

***

Chloe and Trixie found Lucifer at his piano, plunking distractedly at the keys, and scowling toward the kitchen. They could hear someone rummaging around in there.  
  
“Bloody Hell,” Lucifer grumbled, glancing at them with a peeved expression. “Tell me again why we introduced Mī to food?”  
  
“What?” Chloe asked. He had been so pleased yesterday, when Michael had finally realized how great food was. What was with the change of heart? Stepping out of the elevator, Chloe glanced toward the kitchen, as Trixie darted off to see what was going on. Chloe shrugged at Lucifer, waiting for him to explain himself.  
  
“You’d think after a feast of cinnamon rolls, he’d be content.” He announced with a dramatic sigh. “But no! He had to eat all the strawberries too, and now he’s pirating everything else.” Lucifer groused. Chloe shook her head. Of course. Because why would Lucifer be upset about anything that _actually _mattered?  
  
When she looked into the kitchen, she saw Trixie sitting on the counter, kicking her feet, eager and amused. She was surrounded my various cooking ingredients, all opened. Flour, canola oil, butter, eggs, celery, salt, and ice cubes… it was a chaotic mess of mismatched foods that didn’t look like they would make, well, anything. Michael was rummaging through the cupboards, pulling out more random things.  
  
“You should try that,” Trixie said, pointing to the chocolate syrup he found. “And give me some too.”  
  
“What are you doing?” Chloe demanded, looking at him in bewilderment.  
  
“Ravaging my kitchen!” Lucifer lamented from the piano as Michael opened the top of the syrup and squeezed a bit into Trixie‘s hand, followed by his own.  
  
“Looking for snacks.” He explained innocently before tentatively licking his hand. His eyes lit up, triumphant.  
  
“Okay, well, ummm.”  
  
“This is what Miss Ella puts in the white stuff to make it taste better!” He exalted, looking at the syrup like he had found the Holy Grail.  
  
“Now he’s going to devour all the chocolate, isn’t he!” Lucifer accused loudly.  
  
“Yes!” Trixie declared. “Let me show you how!” She jumped off the counter and took the chocolate from the hungry archangel’s hand and went to the fridge to find some milk.  
  
Chloe wasn’t sure where to go with this. Here she was with three misbehaving children. Two, who were immortal archangels who one would think would know better by now. Fine, if they were going to act childish, she would deal with them accordingly. Mom-mode it was. “Trix, Monkey, you already had enough sweets today. Michael, Dear, don’t eat all of your brother’s food... and Lucifer, stop pouting. You can buy more.”  
  
“Awww!” Trixie whined.  
  
“I wasn’t eating all of it. There’s plenty strange powdery stuff left.” Michael gestured to the open bag of flour. Chloe shook her head, imagining him tasting it. She chuckled at the face he must have made.  
  
“I wanted strawberries!” Lucifer pouted petulantly. She could hear him getting up from the piano and starting to make his way over.  
  
“Good grief.” Chloe sighed. “Lucifer...if it bothered you so much, why didn’t you say something?” As she spoke, she saw Michael holding a can of whipped cream, trying to decide if it was still okay to continue. He looked up at Chloe, an expression of... oh, dear, he was making the most ridiculously hopeful puppy eyes she had ever seen on a grown… err, angel.   
  
Oh, he was good.  
  
“I was going to, then he gave me this look, and I...” Lucifer came into view. Then he saw Michael, whipped cream in one hand chocolate syrup in the other, puppy dog eyes in full effect. “Bloody Hell! That!” Lucifer gesticulated at his twin. “He’s making that face again. How am I to say no to _that?!?”_  
  
Seemingly chastised, Michael set both down and trudged out of the kitchen. “I’m sorry, I won’t do it again.” He muttered softly, looking as if his world was ending.  
  
Lucifer’s anger dropped away and he gave Chloe a guilty,_ pleading _look. _‘Help,’ _it seemed to say. “Mī, I’m sorry... you can have it.” He rushed over to the kitchen, passing a disbelieving Chloe and awestruck Trixie, to grab the chocolate, milk, and whipped cream, and proceeded to put together a cup. “I’m not mad. _Really.” _He insisted.  
  
Michael flopped down onto the couch and looked at his brother, resigned like he already made up his mind never to have anything chocolate again. Really? This from the same person who had hidden under a blanket rather than face the idea of eating? Chloe supposed the 180 was good, but it seemed it was going to take some adjusting.   
  
“Why don’t we all have hot chocolate? And since Ella will be coming by, I can text her and ask if she can pick up strawberries. Yeah? Does that sound good?” Chloe offered. When did she turn into such a push-over?  
  
“Only if I can make mine_ Irish.”_ Lucifer quipped. He glanced furtively at his twin, who was sitting straighter, a hopeful confused look on his face.  
  
“Only if Sammy doesn’t mind.” Michael half agreed, eyeing the two in the kitchen dubiously.  
  
“Me too?” Trixie asked. Eyes wide, mimicking the puppy expression she had seen on the archangel moments before.  
  
“Yes, Monkey. All of us.” Chloe conceded with a sigh.  
  
“Yes!” Trixie pumped her fist and hopped over to the couch to sit next to Michael and whisper something in his ear, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. He, in turn, looked bewildered by what she said, only to shrug it off with a smirk.   
  
Chloe looked at Lucifer and shook her head. Again. He was currently in the process of making four cups of primo hot chocolate, muttering something about how it would’ve been better with strawberries. Chloe laughed. How was this the Devil? Then glancing back at Michael, she had to chuckle again. He looked... pleased.  
  
“He really is the evil twin.” Lucifer muttered, laughing at the irony as he added chocolate syrup to the cups.  
  
Chloe wrapped her arm affectionately around her Devil’s waste and kissed his scruffy cheek. He, in turn, smiled tenderly at her. “You know, I think you’re right.” Chloe laughed.  
  
Lucifer sighed. “But he’s _My _evil twin, and I’ll rip the arms off anyone who tries to hurt him again.”  
  
“And I’m sure he would do the same for you.” Chloe kissed him lightly and he beamed at her, a look of awe on his face.

After a quick texting chat to Ella and more pomp and circumstance than Chloe felt hot chocolate merited, they settled in to enjoy their drinks, and Chloe took a deep breath, preparing herself to ask the question she had been mulling over all day.

Dan.

She had tried every day to contact him, and every day it went straight to voicemail. She put out a BOLO today, after Trixie had asked about him. She hadn’t wanted to admit it, but she was worried that he was probably in serious danger.

“Lucifer?” She started, and his contented smile fell at the sight of her worried expression. “Do you think you can come in tomorrow? I’m worried...”

Her query was cut off when Ella showed up, a plastic container full of strawberries and a box of fresh cinnamon rolls in hand. “Hey, guys, I got the goods!” She announced proudly as she stepped out of the elevator.   
  
Lucifer wasted no time in snatching up the strawberries, and Michael brightened at the sight of Ella with his favorite pastries. Chloe sighed, frustrated that her question had been cut short.  
  
As Michael started in on the confections, she wondered if it was possible for an archangel to become addicted to cinnamon rolls. Was this something she ought to be concerned about?  
  
“A pleasure, as always, Miss Lopez.” Lucifer greeted, as he popped a berry into his mouth. Ella grinned, curtsying playfully before leaning against the bar, munching on her own cinnamon roll.

“The pleasure’s all mine.” She smirked, “though if I keep bringing cinnamon rolls, I’m gonna need new pants. Not all of us have,” she made air quotes, “bloody angelic metabolisms.” Lucifer laughed at her imitation of him, Michael furrowed his brow, and Ella took another bite. “Anyone hear from Dan, yet?” She asked casually.  
  
“Not yet, no. I was hoping Lucifer could help... or....” She glanced at Michael, who was giving a roll to her daughter... huh, maybe she _did _have to be concerned about his addiction. He was teaching her daughter bad habits.  
  
“He might’ve gone off on a crusade or something if he found the sword,” Lucifer shrugged. Chloe’s eyes widened. Crusade? “After all, last time the Douche came in contact with a celestial blade, he tried to stab me with it over stealing his pudding.” He reminisced, as if this was somehow hilarious.  
  
Michael and Trixie both perked up at that.  
  
“What’s a pudding?” Michael. “Is Daddy in trouble?” Trixie.  
  
Chloe rubbed her temples. _‘Yes,’_ she wanted to say. But she didn’t want to worry her daughter more.  
  
“We don’t know, Monkey. But I know Daddy can handle himself, and if he was in trouble, he would tell us.”_ Unless he couldn’t, _she decided not to add.  
  
Michael put his hand reassuringly on her daughter. “You needn’t worry about my sword, Miss Trixie. I’m the only one who can unsheathe it. It’s inert right now.” Chloe was relieved to hear that.   
  
“So anyone who finds it will think it's useless?” Ella wondered. Michael was silent at that, he looked like he wanted to say something further, but the words wouldn’t form. Most likely, he didn’t much care for the idea of his blade being tossed into a junkyard or garbage bin. At least Chloe_ hoped _that’s what his silence meant.  
  
But then he mentioned something more than a little concerning._ “They _have it.” He whispered withdrawing into himself. _They? _The ones who had hurt him. Chloe wanted to ask more, but just one look at him and she knew it was too much. He was breathing hard, struggling to stay composed, and both Ella and Lucifer were hurrying to his side to offer comfort. 

Chloe fought not to panic, but the same words kept repeating in her head._ Dan walked into a trap._  
  
“Okay, tomorrow, at work, I’m gonna see what I can piece together.” She glanced again at Michael, but decided not to ask. She didn’t need to. She had already been up there, she could figure this out. But it would be much easier with her partner. She looked at Lucifer, who was resting a reassuring hand on his brother’s shoulder and looking at her with concern.

Then her eyes met Trixie’s, and she smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Daddy can take care of himself. We’ll get him back.” Trixie looked uncertain, then she turned to Lucifer with pleading eyes.  
  
“You’ll help, right?” It was more of a statement than a question, but Lucifer nodded. And Chloe instantly felt better knowing she would have her partner with her on this.

  
***  
  
“A mission for father?” Azrael demanded of Gabriel. “That’s what you said last time!” She was getting annoyed with her brother.   
  
“Well it was true, then, too.” He retorted defensively.  
  
“How many missions does he have to go on?” She grumbled. The Prince of Heaven almost never left the Silver City, but now every time she tried to see him, he was out? Something didn’t smell right.  
  
“Same mission.” Gabriel replied, frustrated.  
  
“Yeah, that’s impossible. The longest Mikey’s ever been away was a few hours, and that was back when he was still hunting demons.” She challenged, stepping into his personal space.  
  
Gabriel fluffed his wings and stepped back, recoiling from the scrutinizing glare of his little sister, his dark eyes averted. “I don’t know what to tell you. Things change, I guess.” He countered, trying to brush it off. But Azrael caught a glimpse of something else flit across his face - doubt? Suspicion... anger?  
  
Azrael narrowed her eyes at him. “How long has he been on this mission?” She demanded, stepping back.  
  
Gabriel furrowed his brow, apparently confused by the question. “You mean Earth time? Because you know perfectly well that time in Heaven…”  
  
“Obviously Earth-time!” the petite angel snapped.  
  
Gabriel huffed and rolled his eyes at her. “How am I supposed to know? I’ve been stuck here the entire time he’s been out. I haven’t been to Earth once!” He grumbled, crossing his arms. “You have no idea how easy it is to lose track of time when you’re running around, constantly dealing with every little thing that comes up. Honestly, I don’t know how he hasn’t lost his mind!” He groused, tossing his arms up to emphasize his point.  
  
Azrael fell silent at that. Gabriel was useless. “Fine, I’ll ask again later.” She grumbled as she unfurled her wings, and left.  
  
Something was wrong. Gabriel may have been too distracted to realize it… but something was definitely wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Round two of Maze vs Sandi. Score: one-one! 😃
> 
> Behold! The power of puppy dog eyes. 🥺
> 
> Rae-Rae: Where’s Mikey? 🤨  
Gabe: 😶Out. 🙄  
Rae-Rae: That makes no sense! 😡😡😡  
Gabe: 😕 *thinking* huh, she’s right... 🤔 ... 😠  
Rae-Rae: You’re useless. 😤


	36. Angst! Fluff! Drama!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zerachiel is the worst.  
Remember when Mī was on the run and people kept asking about shoes?  
Hmm... turns out Gabe listened to Azrael.

Zerachiel swallowed, forcing down the tension he felt after the conversation - _interrogation _\- he had just come from.  
  
He couldn’t understand it. Leaving his brother under the watchful eye of carefully selected human guards shouldn’t have mattered. The charm of an archangel had no effect on humans when their will belonged to him. His followers were usually more obedient. No one was meant to touch Mîchael, let alone hurt him... let alone... it made Zerachiel sick, and...

_No._ He refused to blame himself for_ their _actions.

Sighing, he went outside to gaze at the starry sky of the Earthly Plane. It was a rare cloudless night, and the cool air helped to clear his head. 

Where was Sandalphon? Was he having any luck tracking Mîchael? With every passing day, he grew more worried... he had been so easy to tack at first, then he vanished. According to his general, their brother had been badly hurt... and...  
  
Mîchael wasn’t healing properly anymore.  
  
After years of being drained, he was losing the strength - and will - to fight back, and the humans had taken advantage. Zerachiel felt rage building at the thought of what those fools had done to him before they left him lying there, completely free of restraints.  
  
What puzzled him the most was that they had broken free in the first place. He had to _reclaim_ their_ will _when he went to question them about Mîchael’s escape. And when asked, they had confessed to feeling guilty. They said they were ashamed when his brother had asked them, _“What’s the right thing to do?” _

Curse them! He_ told _them not to take the gag out!  
  
Zerachiel _needed _Mîchael. He _needed _the power to create life. Mîchael was the only one besides Father and Mother who possessed that power. He was the only one who could give him his army. And he knew that his brother had done it before; given a bit of his gift - his light - the power of creation. And what could be given could also be taken. So that’s what he had done. But it had been his hope that in time, his brother would give his light to the cause willingly. As soon as Zerachiel had broken him free of Father’s control.  
  
And damn those humans and their timing, he had been making progress. Mîchael was finally adapting to his new role. But now... he was gone. Missing. If only he could reach out to him somehow... Then a thought crossed his mind. He may not know where he was, but he_ could _still reach him. Zerachiel put his hands together in prayer.

***

_‘Michael, brother. Where are you hiding? I assure you, the humans who mishandled you have paid for their sins. Come back to me.’_

He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. The voice in his head was like a tsunami crashing down on the barely rebuilt structures of his composure, tearing everything away in a wave of pain.  
  
He didn’t want him in his head. He didn’t want to think about him. He didn’t want to feel dread toward the looming threat, with every muscle in his body screaming at him to _do something._ Get away. Run. Fight. Hide...   
  
Because he couldn’t. Not when he felt so defeated. Not when he wanted to disappear, to not even exist. Existence was torment.   
  
Choking on a sob, he was somewhat aware of tumbling out of bed and hitting the floor. Hard. He curled in on himself, and tried to pull away. His breaths were ragged; desperate and uneven. His chest _hurt, _his head _hurt, _everywhere _hurt,_ everything was pain. His heart was pounding wildly. He couldn’t stop trembling. No, no, no, not again.  
  
Not again…  
  
Where was he? Was someone talking to him?   
  
_Someone was touching him!_  
  
Horrified, he pulled back, crashing into something... a bed post? No. No, this was bad, this was weak, this was wrong, he needed to fight, he needed to get away, he needed... The darkness was somehow vanished, even as oblivion edged in.  
  
“No, no, no, please, no, not again... please...”   
  
Someone was babbling like a broken toy. But it wasn’t_ him _curled up on the floor. No. _He _was nowhere, watching the drama unfold from a _safe_ distance, where nothing was real. He wasn’t there. It was better if he wasn’t. Easier. Quieter.   
  
Painless…  
  
Something soft brushed at the edge of his deteriorating awareness, pulling him back to the dreamscape everyone else called reality. Something gentle and familiar. Desperately, he reached out to grab it.  
  
Miss Alien’s sewed on eyes stared back at him.   
  
Miss Alien was not a threat.  
  
_‘Miss Alien helps with bad dreams.’_  
  
He ran his hands over the toy’s back and hugged onto it for dear life. Miss Alien welcomed him as he squeezed her into his chest, fuzzy, friendly - present. He focused on it, on how tangible it was. He let his fingers feel the plush fabric. Slowly, the voice violating his mind became less important. He wasn’t there. Miss Alien was in his arms. Miss Alien meant safety.   
  
It wasn’t real. He knew it. Safety was an illusion, but it was one he very much needed to believe in. He was with Samael, in the Penthouse, hidden and protected.  
  
Breathe. In. Out. In. Out. He could hear someone counting breaths, and he latched onto it, matching the rhythm. In. Out.  
  
Gradually, he calmed down and regained purchase of his surroundings. How the mighty have fallen, he thought. To depend on a child’s toy to keep his head. He would feel ashamed, but there was something in his twin’s expression that put him at ease.  
  
No pity, no concern. Just... understanding... and _resolve._  
  
Samael was sitting next to him, cigarette in one hand, and a glass of amber liquid in the other. He was looking ahead, as if lost in thought. Feeling a bit steadier, he uncurled from the toy.  
  
After a couple puffs on the cigarette and a hardy swig from the glass, his brother looked at him. “Are you ready to talk about it?” It was a simple question. Posed like he was just asking about his day. No big deal.  
  
“No.”  
  
Sammy shrugged, then he reached to the other side of him and produced a cinnamon roll on a plate. “Want it?” he asked.  
  
With a faltering smile, he took the plate. The confection had the rich white topping he loved so much and he breathed in deep, reveling in the scent. “Yes. Thank you.”  
  
He wondered at his brother. How did he always seem to have exactly what he needed? As he took a bite, his fears seemed to fade into the distance. This was good. Maybe there was some hope after all. Maybe...

***

Ella didn’t arrive at Lucifer’s until 10:30. She had needed to stop by work first, to tie up a couple loose ends before she could take the rest of the day, and even though she got an early start, it took longer than she would have liked to get out. It was okay, though. Lucifer always came in late, and as she looked around, she noticed that Amenadiel and Charlie hadn’t even arrived yet.

Setting down the hot chocolate and cinnamon rolls she had picked up for Michael on her way in, she caught herself smirking. The archangel had looked so insulted the night before when Lucifer suggested their oldest brother “watch Mī until I get back.” But when Lucifer gave him a phone and shooed him off, he seemed content with the distraction, seemingly entranced by the device and forgetting all about whatever speech he had been preparing to make.

There was no question about it. Ella was going to be putting out fires today... but she agreed. They needed Amenadiel there to guard... just in case.

She made her way over to Michael’s room, expecting to run into Lucifer on the way. But Lucifer was out of sight, and Michael was apparently left to his own devices. He was in his room, as she expected, but he was so focused on what he was doing, he hadn’t noticed her approach, and Ella was not prepared for the sight that awaited her.  
  
She found him with one kind of shoe on one foot and another kind on the other, holding two more styles in his hands. He was sitting on the bed, turning one foot from side to side, a very serious expression on his face. There were several other shoes scattered about the floor. He was so focused on the footwear he was actually startled when Ella started to giggle. His eyes darted up to her, alert and guarded for the briefest moment before they relaxed into an embarrassed, tired smile.  
  
“No shoes in heaven?” Ella wondered, trying to suppress her chuckling.  
  
“Not like this, no. There are a few kinds, simple, functional... but we don’t have much cause to wear them.” He shrugged as he set the shoes he was holding down. One red and black sketcher and one fuzzy sky blue house shoe. Then he kicked off the polished grey loafer and tan leather hiking boot on his feet. He wasn’t wearing socks. Ella wondered if he understood socks. Probably not.

“So, I guess we have more kinds here?” She sat down next to him and picked up a flip flop. Were these all Lucifer’s shoes? Had Michael gotten into his closet to try to understand fashion? The idea of the archangel going through the Devil’s stuff and smuggling footwear into this room was too much.

“You humans have turned function into art... But I don’t understand.” He looked at her with serious, thoughtful blue eyes, and for the first time, she noticed the dark circles under them. Nightmares? She decided to ask him about that later... their current topic of conversation was too good to pass up.

“You don’t get why?” Ella guessed.

“No. I mean, yes. Why are shoes for females different from shoes for males?”

Ella laughed again. She couldn’t help it. The image of Saint Michael, the Sword of God, prancing around in the pair of blood red pumps she saw at the foot of his bed was just too much. Were those Lucifer’s too?

“Did I say something wrong?” He asked. Ella shook her head, still laughing.

“No, you didn’t.” She took a moment to catch her breath. “Where is Lucifer, by the way?”

Michael smiled, seemingly amused. “Oh, you know. Sammy spends a great deal of time in the washroom. Ever the vain one. He was told once that he was the most beautiful of Father’s angels and it went right to his head. Sometimes, I think he just likes to stand in front of the looking glass so he can preen.”

Ella grinned. That sounded like Lucifer, alright. “So, he’s in the shower? Did you get bored and raid his closet?” She smirked.

“No. These are mine.” Ella’s hand flew to her mouth in surprise. “They arrived just before you did... in boxes. I made the request for them on the communication device yesterday.” He explained.

So the Prince of Heaven discovered online shopping. Ella was pretty sure he didn’t know Lucifer was being billed for all of those shoes. Not that it mattered. He could afford it. She shook her head, getting ready to explain this to him anyway when he spoke up again.

“I was surprised when they arrived. I didn’t think they would be sent to me at all.” He sighed. “Human technology has certainly come a long way.” He picked up a camouflaged combat boot and looked it over with almost melancholic seriousness.

Ella snorted in spite of herself. Not laughing was hard. “So, the red pumps are yours?” She heard the door to the bathroom open and the sound of Lucifer’s bare feet padding to his room.

“I suppose. But they don’t fit. The number is the same, but they’re smaller.” To illustrate his point, he set down the combat boot and picked up a pump, trying to slide his foot into it, only to take it off again when it didn’t go all the way on, shaking his head, a baffled look on his face.

Ella couldn’t take it anymore. She started laughing hard enough she had to hold her sides. What was, for him, an innocent line of inquiry, was painfully hilarious to her. Michael frowned at her, insulted by her mirth. “I’m sorry, it’s just...” She took a deep breath, then decided to answer his question. “Dudes have bigger feet, so the sizes are adjusted.” She kicked off her sneaker and held up her pink-socked foot next to his bare one. “See?”

Michael looked at their feet and made an o with his mouth, understanding sinking in. “That should have been obvious to me. Males tend to be bigger, so it only stands to reason that the feet would be too.” He smiled, pleased with himself for having made sense of at least one human mystery. 

“Yeah, and you know what they say about foot size.” Ella joked, before she realized, too late, that no, he did NOT know what they say. She blushed as she heard Lucifer approaching.

“My, my. Miss Lopez, what are you trying to say to my twin?” She heard him purr. Looking up, she saw Lucifer, still buttoning his shirt, a fascinated look on his face. “And where did all of these shoes come from?”

Ella covered her face in her hands. Mortified and muttering through her fingers, she tried to explain, “I forgot who I was talking to. I am, like, so, _sooo _sorry!”

Michael placed his hand on Ella’s shoulder in a reassuring gesture. “What do they say about foot size? It can’t be that bad.”

Lucifer grinned evilly at them and Ella groaned. “The bigger your foot, the bigger your member.” He said it like he was bragging. He even wiggled his hips suggestively, and Ella’s blush spread.

For his part, Michael seemed unbothered. Rather, he seemed to turn the foreign idea around in his head for a bit, then he turned his blue eyes on his twin.

“Is it true?”

Lucifer doubled over holding his sides with laughter. Ella let out a chuff before she covered her mouth again, trying and failing not to laugh at his question. Then he asked another, worse question.

“Does size matter somehow?” As he looked at them gasping for air, he frowned. Ella felt like she might pass out. “Sorry, but it’s just a lot to take in.” He tried to explain tentatively.

Not able to resist himself, Lucifer looked up at his twin, tears in his eyes and gasped out the only response that was appropriate in this instance. “That’s what she said!”  
  
It was at that moment that they heard a gust of wind with the mighty flapping of angel wings, followed by Amenadiel’s voice ringing out.  
  
“Luci! We’re here!” He announced, followed shortly by, “More cinnamon rolls? Really, there_ are _other things one can eat.”

“Baba doo!” Charlie retorted with a giggle.  
  
***

“Raziel!” Gabriel barked, and the angel of secrets groaned. She didn’t need this. Not now.

Standing up, she motioned for him to come in and promptly closed the door to make sure Remiel wouldn’t be able to hear them. “Can this wait, Gabri...”

“No.” He cut her off. “I need to know about Mī. Now.” He declared.

Raziel cringed inwardly.” He’s still out.” She reminded, trying for an eye roll to mask her unease. Gabriel raised an eyebrow at her.

“No, that’s not good enough.” He drawled, leaning against the wall and looking down to her imperiously. “When Mī said Father was taking another ‘trip,’ I didn’t think anything of it...”

Raziel felt her heart do a flip flop in her chest. He was starting a monologue. This wasn’t good.

“...then you and Uriel show up and tell me that he flew off to do something classified for Father. I was a little insulted that he didn’t tell me directly...”

“He left in a hurry...” She attempted, but he kept talking over her.

“...I mean, he’s been distant with me, but I’d like to think he trusts me.” He looked at her scrutinizing, and she resisted the urge to retreat. “Really, sister, what could they possibly be doing? Creating a whole new reality? Without me?” He orated, languidly. “And why doesn’t He want any of the others to know they’re out?”

Raziel sighed dramatically. “I’m just following orders, like_ you _ought to be doing.” Then she stepped forward with false authority. It was a bluff... but she knew how to get to Gabriel. “Are you questioning Father?” She challenged.

Her brother grew still, a simmering anger resting just below the surface. “I’m questioning _you.”_

“Fine. Put together a team and track them down, for all I care. But don’t expect any support from me when Father demands to know why you’re _disobeying _Him.” Gabriel pulled back. Feeling encouraged, she kept going. “What’s your excuse gonna be? You didn’t _want _the _task _He gave you?” She sneered. 

The attack hit home. Gabriel’s eyes flashed a nearly white yellow. “Don’t you _dare _disrespect me!” He roared, advancing on her, and Raziel suddenly feared she may have taken it too far. Gabriel grabbed her robe and pulled her in close. “I am NOT Lucifer!” He snarled, tossing her down. “But if I find out that you have been misleading me, or if anything has happened to Mîchael, you had better hope that Father is back to punish you Himself. Because I will not be kind.” And with that, he stormed out, leaving the door open and Raziel still on the floor in a terror induced cold sweat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little light is shed on how Michael escaped... but...  
Zerachiel! Ugh! Leave our poor baby alone! 😡😡😡
> 
> Yay for an outstanding support team!😈🌈👩  
And shoes! What a lovely distraction.🥿👠👡👢👞👟🥾😇⚔️❓  
🤣🤣🤣  
Our boys are very good at pretending nothing is wrong.  
😪 No, it’s not healthy.
> 
> Gabriel can be scary... 😇✉️🤯🤬  
Raz is gonna panic now.😇🤫😱😱😱


	37. Texting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azrael continues to investigate. Lots of Luciferness at the precinct. Maze yells at him.
> 
> Note: The short fic: ‘Texting’ is the rough draft for part of this chapter

“Long time no see.” Azrael greeted as she approached the disembodied angel’s soul. He was hanging around a storage rental facility, of all places. “Who killed you this time?” She asked.  
  
“Mazikeen of the Lilim.” He admitted grumpily. “But at least I’m not banished. Why didn’t I go to Hell when I died?”  
  
Azrael shrugged and laughed. “My best guess is that it’s because you’re already dead. I only found you because I was looking for you.” She held out her hand encouragingly.  
  
The fallen warrior looked at her with uncertainty. “I can’t go to Heaven… they’ll banish me again, and I can’t go back to that.” He declared, backing up. “And I don’t want to go to Hell.”  
  
Azrael sighed. “I’m taking you to purgatory until I can sort this mess out. That’s where I put the others.” She explained. He looked uncertain. “It’s temporary, I promise. As soon as I get a chance to talk to Mikey about it, I’m sure he will be…” She trailed off when she noticed the other looking surprised and… _guilty._  
  
“If you find him, I promise he won’t be interested in helping any of us.” He said it meekly, not looking her in the eye.  
  
Azrael looked at him more scrutinizing. She already knew something wasn’t right… the mission from Father that wasn’t ending… these phantoms from the past... They were connected. 

“What do you know?” She demanded, but it seemed he had found the mute button, because he didn’t say another word. Sighing, the Angel of Death took him to the others and as she dropped him off in purgatory, she vowed to find an explanation. Which, if Maze was involved, meant talking to Lu. Looked like she was going to Hell.

***

Ding!  
  
Lucifer pulled his phone out and grinned. “He’s learning about modern technology far more readily than Amenadiel had.” He beamed proudly as he proceeded to read the message and text a reply.  
  
Being back at the Precinct, with Lucifer goofing off while Chloe tried to work was more than a little nostalgic. Over the last hour, he had been making inappropriate doodles on the sticky notes and documents, highlighting random phrases that could be read as rude or naughty, and constantly ‘topping off’ his coffee with the whisky in his flask. She had needed to remind herself several times that this was important when he started to distract her with his charming presence. Not that every case wasn’t important... this was just... more important. Find Dan. Figure out who hurt Michael. Fix things. But seeing Lucifer so pleased about something, she couldn’t help being curious. Setting down the file she’d been looking over (the secret one Ella had made for her) she looked up at her delighted partner.  
  
“Did you get Michael a phone?” Chloe asked, intrigued.  
  
Lucifer didn’t answer immediately, being distracted for a moment as he texted a reply. She waited. “Aaaand send. Sorry, Darling, what?” He looked at her owlishly for a moment before he processed what she had said. “Oh, yes, indeed. I put parental locks on it, however. Can’t have him buying any more shoes.”  
  
Chloe laughed. “Is the passcode 666?” She asked with a grin.

Lucifer gaped at her, affronted by the proposition. “Of course not!” He retorted indignantly. Chloe was impressed. Was he finally taking security seriously? “It needs to be four digits long.” He added with a grumble.

Oh... well that left one obvious alternative. “So it’s 69 69.” She predicted with a grin.

Her partner’s eyes widened. “Bloody Hell! Not so loud, now I need to change it!” He complained. Chloe laughed again.

“So, what did he say?” She asked, changing the subject to improve the mood of her grumpy Devil. “In the text, I mean.  
  
This immediately brightened her partner’s disposition. Spinning happily on his chair as he rolled over to her side of the desk, he showed her his phone, clearly proud. “See for yourself, Detective!” He chirped.  
  
👀💋😈✨🌈👩. 😈👩👉🔥,🔨!   
  
“What?” Chloe blurted. Did Lucifer actually understand that? She knew he liked to send texts loaded with emojis but nobody ever understood him. Yeah, she knew he kept saying it was reminiscent of hieroglyphs... but... And now _Michael_ was doing it too?

“Oh,” Lucifer beamed at her. “He said, ‘watching ‘_Bedazzled’ _with Miss Lopez. Elizabeth Hurley’s portrayal of you -_ me _\- is on fire. She nailed it.’ See? Rainbow girl is for Miss Lopez.”  
  
Chloe looked again. Okay, maybe she got it? She was starting to think that emojis were Michael and Lucifer’s secret twin language, and when she looked at his reply, it only confirmed her suspicion.  
  
👍. 😈👩🍑🥉! 💋🔥💀! 👋🌈👩🙂.  
  
She looked at Lucifer blankly, and pointed. “What is that supposed to mean???”  
  
Leaning in so he could point as he went, he happily translated. “I agree. She’s a peach in real life! Sexy as Hell. Say Hi to Ms. Lopez for me.”  
  
“What’s the third place medal for?” She wondered, perplexed.  
  
“Real life,_ obviously, _because in real life, we can’t _all _be winners.” He drawled, making a mock sad face. Chloe rolled her eyes.   
  
Ding!   
  
Another message appeared on the screen.   
  
🌈👩👋😃. 🍿😋.  
  
“Hey, I think I understand this one!” Chloe brightened up. Was she actually cracking the code? “Rainbow girl is Ella, so Ella says Hi?” Then she pointed to the popcorn and yum face. “And here, he’s saying he likes popcorn, right?”  
  
Lucifer beamed at her. “Excellent deduction, Detective!”  
  
Content with this little revelation, Chloe returned to her task, and Lucifer returned to playing with his chair and being utterly unhelpful. Looking through Ella’s lab results on the zombie angel from her apartment, she noticed something strange. Maybe Lucifer might be able to explain. “I need your help.” She said, holding up the results.   
  
“Hmmm?” He looked up from his phone inquisitively.   
  
“Ella reported that the deoxyribose, adenine, guanine, cytosine, and thymine in the DNA seemed to change when exposed to different environments... and here, it says that the molecules sometimes behaved like photons.”  
  
“My, she was thorough. What a delightfully morbid curiosity she has.” He declared, taking the paper to look over with interest.  
  
“So... what does that mean?”  
  
Lucifer turned to her with a grin. “It means the DNA is confused. Can’t seem to decide what it _desires _to be.” He announced resolutely, handing it back.  
  
Well, that didn’t help. Returning to the task at hand, she pulled out the file Dan had on the case, and she noticed a satellite picture with an arrow pointing to a random patch of woods. A sticky note with Robert Fisher’s number was attached. Bingo! Then she heard his phone chime again.  
  
Ding!  
  
Glancing over his shoulder, she saw the following text pop up on his phone’s screen.  
  
👊🏾🥳🎉💩, 🗣🛑❌🍭🍩⚔️👼🏽🥺. ⚔️🕊🏙💩👊🏾👨🏾😇.  
  
Lucifer took one look and busted up laughing. He was so amused by this mystery message, his phone slipped out of his hand. Chloe caught it, saving it from a bad tumble, and gaped at the message as her celestial consultant fell off his chair from laughing. Well, she thought, looking at the impossible string of pictures, so much for figuring out the code.   
  
“Lucifer?” She ventured, both out of concern and confusion. He staggered to his feet, and shook his head to clear it, realizing he had made a bit of a spectacle of himself in a most undignified manner. He smiled sheepishly at the audience of curious officers turning to look their way. Then, smoothing out his suit and fixing his cufflinks, he gracefully returned to his seat, still snickering and grinning wolfishly even as he took his phone back, and texted his reply.   
  
🤣🤣🤣👊🏾😡⚔️😈👥!  
  
“What did he say?” She demanded, desperately wanting in on the ‘joke.’   
  
Lucifer took a few deep breaths to calm himself, even as a crowd of their coworkers was drawing in. Then, leaning in conspiratorially, he translated for her. “He called in a pigeon from outside and had it relieve itself on Amenadiel’s head!” He started to laugh again, less ostentatiously this time, but still, clearly delighted.  
  
Chloe gawked. “What? Why?” So apparently Michael can talk to animals. And he can also be terribly immature. She knew he and Amenadiel had a history, but _really?_  
  
“According to the text, our dear brother was being a party pooper and told Mī that he and Charlie don’t get any cinnamon rolls.”  
  
Chloe sighed. Did their Father - _God _\- really never teach them any better? _Well, God? What have you got to say for yourself? _She directed this thought skyward with an eye roll. “Honestly? So many things I want to say about that. I suppose it’s too much to expect you to tell him this wasn’t the best response to being told ‘no’?”  
  
Lucifer grinned. “I told him he’s the evil twin.” More giggling.  
  
Ding!  
  
Chloe snatched Lucifer’s phone away from him upon hearing his phone chime again, getting ready to text the misbehaving archangel and demand he apologize to his older brother. Then upon seeing the message, she stopped.  
  
🌈👩👎🤝🤔🥺  
  
“Well I guess Ella told him it wasn’t nice.” Chloe sighed, shaking her head. Lucifer took his phone back and sighed as well, clearly disappointed.   
  
“It appears she made him apologize. Pity...” Then he texted back.  
  
🌈👩🥳🎉💩. ⚔️🧗🎭😇.  
  
Chloe understood the first part, but... “What?”  
  
“Miss Lopez is a party pooper. You do what feels right.” He explained, earning him a glare.  
  
Ding!  
  
They both looked down at his phone again, and Lucifer started to snicker.  
  
☝️👩🗣  
  
“Don’t tell me,” Chloe shook her head. “That’s what she said.”  
  
Lucifer wiped an imaginary tear away, and smiled wistfully, stage sniffing for effect. “He’s growing up so fast.”  
  
Chloe sighed. She was _glad _she had her partner back. She was_ glad _they were together on this, she was _glad _Michael seemed to be doing better, and that he and Lucifer were getting along. Really, she was _glad... _but he was really not helping. Lucifer, seemingly not aware that her patience was waning, was texting again when she put her hand over the phone. He looked at her, accosted, but before she could speak, a detective from another department called out her name.

“Detective Decker? I was told you’re the go-to person when things get weird?” He ventured cautiously. Chloe and Lucifer both perked up at that. “Might I trouble you and Mr. Morningstar for a moment?”

“Oh, no trouble at all, Johnny.” Lucifer purred, and to Chloe’s horror, the man blushed. _In the past, _she reminded herself. This was something he did in the past... she was _not_ jealous...

John sat down. “Thanks. This case has been really messing with me.” He then proceeded to tell them about a group coming from karaoke stumbling on a wounded man collapsed in the middle of the street. They insisted that he came out of nowhere, with wings... which somehow vanished. The man was admitted into the hospital, but then he disappeared... The detective showed them the hospital admittance images when he finished, and Lucifer practically flew up from his chair in alarm.

“You know him?” The man asked eagerly.

“Sandi, you sneaky bugger, how are you not dead!?” Lucifer declared at the picture angrily. Then he started to laugh cruelly. “Looks as though Maze had fun...” Then, as if on cue, the demon busted in, storming across the bullpen with purpose.   
  
“Maze!” Lucifer elated, lighting up with genuine delight as she approached. Chloe was about to point out to Lucifer that she was not in a social mood when she threw a dagger at him, which he easily caught.  
  
“What the Hell, Lucifer!” She roared at him as she grabbed him by the jacket and proceeded to drag him off to an interrogation room.  
  
“Please, Maze, this is Gucci!” Lucifer complained as he allowed her to lead him off. John and Chloe gawked at the scene, both at a complete loss for words.  
  
***  
  
“I see you got my text?” He queried as soon as the door slammed shut.  
  
“Are you trying to get hurt again or are you just stupid?” Maze yelled at him, waving her arms about, and clearly seething.  
  
“Neither.” He said a bit more seriously, as he adjusted his jacket. “This is about Mī, isn’t it?”  
  
“Oh, we’re using nick names now?” She raged, drawing up to him so they were inches apart, glaring with accusing dark eyes. “I know I’m not your protector anymore, but this is stupid, Lucifer. If he’s being nice, it’s because he _needs _you. He’s just _using_ you, and when he’s done, he’s gonna hurt you again, because that’s what he does. Have you forgotten?”  
  
Lucifer’s eyes flared at her in anger. “I’ve forgotten _nothing!”_ The two stared at one another in silence for a while. Then, clearing his throat and stepping back, he continued. “But I was wrong. He doesn’t hate me, Maze, and he didn’t want to hurt me… I…”  
  
Maze growled and rolled her eyes. “If that’s true, then you have even more reason not to trust him. He didn’t want to and he did it anyway, because he’s your Daddy’s attack dog. And you’re_ still _the _Devil.” _She said pointedly, leaning back on the interrogation table.  
  
Lucifer was quiet for a minute. He could still remember seeing his brother looking small on the balcony… he could still hear him babbling – _begging _– curled up and trembling… as he panicked on the floor by his bed... “I don’t think that’s true anymore.” He said it softly, voice cracking a bit. “I don’t’ think he… _can _be that anymore.” Maze narrowed her eyes. “You should come by the penthouse… if you see him, you’ll understand.” He offered weakly.  
  
Maze snorted. “Yeah, right.” And with that, she turned to leave. “You’re gonna regret helping him.” She warned as she opened the door.  
  
Lucifer had nothing to say to that, considering she was probably right, but before she closed the door, he remembered something else he needed to say. “Oh, um… Maze?” She paused to glance back at him. “Thank you for taking care of Lux… and the Penthouse.” He smiled at her.  
  
The demon’s features softened a bit and she smiled teasingly at him. “Yeah, well, I knew you would be back.” 

“And well done with Sandalphon.” He added with a nasty smirk, which she whole-heartedly returned.

“Finally figured out who it is?” She raised an eyebrow at him. Lucifer nodded, feeling a cold malice spread within him. “Bastard got away... this time.” She remarked.

“A temporary inconvenience. Easily corrected.” He replied icily, and his favorite demon nodded almost gleefully.

“Yeah.” And with that, she left.  
  
***

That night, Ella smiled to herself as she climbed into bed, getting ready to make her nightly prayers. She had stopped for a few days, mad at the Big Guy over Michael, but after her visit today, she wasn’t as angry anymore.  
  
Putting her hands together and closing her eyes, she directed her thoughts out.  
  
_Hey, Big Guy. I guess I’m not mad at you. I mean, I have to believe you love your kids, and if you know everything... well maybe that means you know it will be okay in the end. Michael was doing better today... so... This is Ella, by the way. Ella Lopez... you probably already know that. Anyway... um.., thanks for giving me the opportunity to know your family. And... you know, for creation and all that. And... um... could you maybe cut Lucifer some slack, please? He’s legit, one of the best people I know. Good night._  
  
Ella laughed at how different this was from how she used to pray. It felt so much more... _personal._ But she had a right to be like that, she figured, after all, she was technically a friend of the family now. Then an idea occurred to her. She could pray to the others, too.  
  
_Yo, Amenadiel. It’s Ella. Good night, and say good night to Linda for me.   
  
Good night, Charlie! Ella loves you!  
  
Hey, Lucifer... or Samael? Or whatever. It’s Ella, thanks for letting me visit all the time. I wanted to say good night. I put in a good word for you with the Big Guy... probably won’t matter, but you never know, right? I... You’re a good friend, and I want you to know, I’ve got your back. It’s Ella, by the way.  
  
Michael, Prince of Heaven, collector of shoes, it’s Ella. Just wishing you a good night. I’ll see you again tomorrow. Oh, and hey, if... if there’s anything you need, no matter what time, I’m here for you. I know, you’re used to being the protector... but I guess I figure it’s high time you had someone defending you. You deserve to feel protected too. Good night._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rea-Rea isn’t gonna find Lu in Hell... 😇📚
> 
> I love writing Luciferness! 🤣  
And emojis! 😈⚔️❤️  
Let me know if you want me to translate!😃
> 
> Easter egg: all angels can talk to animals in the comics by speaking in angel tongue.
> 
> Maze has been doing all the work... as usual. 🙄  
Chloe’s catching up, though! 😼
> 
> Someone should’ve told Ella about Raziel...😕
> 
> Comments are awesome!  
p.s. next chapter’s gonna be rough


	38. Words are Weapons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raziel runs off. We find out what actually happened to Mîchael. 
> 
> Trigger warning: infant deaths and psychological trauma

_“Don’t you dare disrespect me! I am NOT Lucifer!”_

That was all Remiel had been able to hear of their altercation. Then Gabriel threw open the door and stormed out. Raz was on the floor in a cold sweat.

What did it mean?

The Angel of the Hunt stood frozen for a moment. She still needed to deal with Raziel... but now... Gabriel was definitely involved, and either he was an ally or the greater threat. Mind made up, Remiel started to follow him. She didn’t make it very far before he stopped and started to laugh.

“You can stop skulking around, Remi.” He remarked, not even turning to face her.

Startled, she came forward, eyeing him suspiciously. “I mean no disrespect.”

“But you’ve noticed something isn’t right.” He turned to look at her, with a touch of admiration in his eyes. Was this a trick? Gabriel wasn’t easily impressed.

“I...” She started to say, but then Raphael was landing at their side, clearly distressed about something. Seemingly unaware that he was interrupting, he put both hands on Gabriel’s shoulders, looking at him with relief.

“Thank Father I found you! There’s an emergency in the library!” He gasped out.

Gabriel frowned. “Then talk to Duma. The library is his to tend to.” He huffed irritably, ready to wave Raphael off.

“He’s missing!” Raphael exclaimed, slightly panicked. Gabriel gaped in alarm, pulling back from his brother. Remiel stiffened. Duma wasn’t missing, he was in Hell.

But before she could say anything, they heard the sound of wings departing, and as she spun around, she saw Raziel taking advantage of the diversion to escape. Remiel wanted to follow, but she hesitated.

Gabriel stepped away from Raphael and leaned in close to whisper. “Follow her. I need to know what she’s been up to. We’ll talk when you return.”

“Right.” Remiel agreed, turning to leave, and as she took off to follow her sister, feeling encouraged, she saw Raphael and Gabriel take off to head to the library. She wished she had more time to explain things... but all in good time. Knowing Gabriel wasn’t likely to be a traitor filled her with new-found courage and resolve. It felt good to know she had Heaven on her side again. She was done ‘skulking’.

She was going to take Raziel down and drag her back to answer for her crimes.

***

“You remind me of something a wise young human said to me once.” God announced with far too smug of an expression on the dark face of the human whose body He was hijacking.

_Don’t engage, _Zerachiel tried to tell himself. He was just checking on things, nothing more. He didn’t need to...

“Would you like to hear it?” The insufferable Deity leered, clearly far too amused with Himself.

“I don’t care to hear _anything_ you have to say.” He barked, spinning on his heels to leave.

“Oh, Good. I would love to tell you.” He chirped, ignoring Zerachiel’s refusal. “It goes like this:_ ‘I see, said the blind man peeing in the wind. It’s all coming back to me.’”_

“WHAT!?” Zerachiel whirled on Him. “Are you calling me blind?” He snarled advancing with his wings out, arching menacingly.

His Father chuckled, leaning back casually in His prison. “And peeing on yourself, too, my son.” He retorted with so much self-satisfaction, Zerachiel wanted to tear Him apart.

It was in that moment that Daniel came in carrying breakfast on a trey. He froze at the sight of Zerachiel trembling with rage and God slapping His knee as He chortled. The human wore the expression of a rabbit who had accidentally hopped into a foxhole. “Did I come at a bad time?” He squeaked nervously.

Zerachiel straighten up and turned to leave. “No. I was on my way out.” Daniel relaxed a bit. “Don’t listen to anything that filth has to say,” he spat as he ascended the stairs.

Daniel shrugged. “I’m not in the habit of listening to parasites.” He replied and Zerachiel grinned. He found he rather liked this one.

“How wise of you.” He commented as he left. As he moved to close the door, the corner of his eye caught a glint of gold, and following it, he saw the wall he and Sandalphon has used to contain Mîchael. He could still almost see his brother there, chained up and glaring defiantly at them.

That had been a long time ago.

Closing the door, Zerachiel wandered into his room and flopped down on his bed, lost in thought. “Where are you, brother?” He voiced out loud, considering praying to him again, but decided against it.  
  
Zerachiel had not been prepared when Uriel contacted him back then, promising the impossible. He never did figure out what the Pattern Master had said to Mîchael to convince him to come to Earth with him.  
  
Absentmindedly, he scratched the itch on the scar he now wore near his left collarbone where the Defender of Heaven’s blade connected, nearly destroying him when they ambushed him. If not for Uriel, he would be gone. He still remembered the look on his brother’s face the moment he realized he had been betrayed.

Sorrow.

At the time, he had thought Mîchael tried to get away from them... it wasn’t until later that he learned that his brother’s primary concern hadn’t been to save himself, but to hide the medallion. To protect an unworthy Father.

Zerachiel sat up and dropped his head into his hands. He still regretted taking Mîchael to Hell. Their brother deserved better, but at the time, they had not known what to do with him, and in a desperate move, they decided to prepare a room in Hell, taking advantage of the extended time down there to construct something that could hold an archangel under such short notice. But it was a temporary arrangement. As soon as he was ready, he collecting his prize and brought him home.  
  
After so long in hiding, he finally had a path to victory. Mîchael’s gift was special. Creation.

He hadn’t expected it to hurt his brother so much when they took his light from him... he suspected it was because he stubbornly refused to cooperate. And because of his resistance, the light they harvested from him was always corrupted, impure, or too weak, and every time they used it, the experiments came out... wrong. And far too human. Zerachiel had no choice but to destroy the abominations and keep trying.  
  
Feeling out of his depth after a couple years with no success, he went back to Earth so he could recruit expert help. He found doctors and scientists from a variety of fields, and brought them back with him. But when he came home, Mîchael wasn’t where he was supposed to be. 

With his brother weakening, he had stopping using the wall, replacing it with a reinforced room. He was still chained, but at least he had a bed. When Zerachiel didn’t find him there, he checked the wall. He wasn’t there either. It wasn’t until he questioned Sandalphon’s elite warriors that he learned what happened.

Sandalphon had apparently decided to take matters into his own hands while Zerachiel was away. The memory was still painful, and a pang of guilt hit his heart every time he thought about it.  
  
_Mîchael lay on his side, bound and gagged in the room Zerachiel finally found him in. He was far too still, staring blankly ahead, the lifeless shells of what could have been a new generation scattered around him._

He knew Sandalphon was sadistic. He knew he hated Mîchael, but he never considered what the former Angel of Music might do.  
  
_“Mîchael? Brother? Please, don’t do this.” _

He had begged him to respond, but it was like he wasn’t even there. Catatonia. That was the ridiculous fancy word his human doctors used to describe what had happened... but naming it did nothing to fix it.  
  
_“He wasn’t cooperating. He needed to know what the price of his refusal was. If we want a new generation of angels, we can’t keep doing this by half measures.” _

Sandalphon’s words.

_“Take Sandalphon away.” He barked at his soldiers, then turning a glare on his brother, he added, “You had better hope he recovers from this.”_  
  
In the months to come, Zerachiel tried everything he could think of to illicit a response. Remembering this, he felt guilt pressing in on him again. He loved his brother. He had always admired him. But his Mîchael had suffered undo grief. 

At one point, his subordinates started to whisper that Mîchael was lost, and that taking Lucifer was their best bet. Mîchael had one half of the demiurge... the Lord if Hell possessed the other half. But then...  
  
_“I wish there were stars to decorate the night sky here. I know how you love the stars. They remind you of Lucifer, don’t they?” He crooned, as he gently stroked his brother’s cheek. He had taken him out, into the night of the pocket realm, hoping that the sight of the universe he and Lucifer created together would trigger something in him.  
  
Michael stirred in his arms.   
  
Surprised, he looked down, half expecting he had imagined it. But there he was, eyes drifting aimlessly. “Sammy?” His voice was breathy and faint.  
  
“Brother?” Zerachiel’s heart rate spiked.   
  
“Sammy?” His breathing caught as his desperate eyes started roaming his surrounding more fervently. “S... Sam?” There was an almost childlike quality to his voice, and Zerachiel felt a familiar pressure clutching his heart with a vice-grip.  
  
“Don’t worry. Sandalphon won’t hurt you again.” He tried to reassure. Why was he asking for Samael? For Lucifer? Zerachiel didn’t understand.  
  
Michael suddenly became aware that he was being held. That he was bound. Looking up, wide blue eyes locked onto Zerachiel, and he started to struggle. “Samael, where are you?!” He cried out as he feebly fought against his brother’s hold.  
  
“Lucifer’s not here.” Zerachiel exclaimed, confused and worried.  
  
Tears started to trail across his brother’s face. Zerachiel tried to wipe them away, but he flinched away from him, his entire body trembling. “Sam? Please! Sammy!” The frightened archangel looked wildly about, continuing to struggle. “Sam? Help! They’re going to hurt me again! Samael, where are you? Please!” _

_It took several hours for him to settle down, and when he did, he looked at Zerachiel with tear-worn eyes. “Why?” He choked out.  
  
Not sure what he was asking about, Zerachiel hesitated.  
  
“Why did you kill them? Why did they have to die?”_

_“It was necessary.” _

_Michael cringed at the word. Necessary.  
  
“Sammy isn’t here.” He whispered, turning away from him.  
  
“No.” It broke his already shattered heart to confirm this.   
  
“He’s never going to be here.” Mîchael whispered sadly. “And it’s my fault.”_  
  
Zerachiel wasn’t sure exactly what had happened. Again, his human doctors had a word for it. Regression. They said that some people, when exposed to excess trauma will seek out a time when they felt safe, when they had someone in their lives who would protect them. Apparently, for Mîchael, that someone had been his twin. The same twin their Father had forced Mîchael to turn on. It made Zerachiel hate their Father even more. _This _was why he had to fight.  
  
He didn’t want to admit that Sandalphon had been right, but things were different after that. Mîchael stopped fighting back. Sandalphon was released from his confinement, with strict instructions never to lay a hand on their prisoner again. And sometime later, they had their first success: A newborn girl with all the strength and light of an archangel.

Elaine.

Zerachiel was surprised when he felt a tear splash on his lap. He had been crying. Annoyed, he wiped his eyes and took a deep breath. Then he swore that once they succeeded in liberating the Silver City, he would personally see to it that his Mîchael would never suffer again. _If_ he ever succeeded. He wasn’t as sure anymore… not since his chat with Raziel.  
  
She didn’t want Father to be hurt, and he knew she felt guilty about what had happened to Mîchael. He did, too. He understood. But what he was doing was necessary. He just needed to convince her. As if by design, it was in that moment that he heard her voice in his head.  
  
_‘Zerachiel, brother. I know where Mîchael is. I’ll tell you, but you need to do something for me, first. Remiel is following me. When I arrive, I need you to take her down before she can talk to Gabriel.’_

Zerachiel laughed. Well, that was unexpected. Easy enough. Exiting his room and heading for the doorway leading to the Earthly Plane, he summoned his warriors. “We’re about to have guests. I need you to take down the one wearing battle ready attire.”

Startled, his followers armed themselves and went about making themselves scarce, as they exited the mansion. The crisp early morning air greeted him as he slunk into the long shadows cast by the trees looming above the low sun.  
  
A moment later, Raziel was there. “Okay, Remiel, show yourself! If you have an issue with me, you need to stop this lurking about!” She shouted angrily.  
  
At first, nothing happened, then his other sister was there, predictably ready for a fight, spear in hand. The Angel of the Hunt glared at Raziel as she approached.

“You’re a traitor…” She didn’t get to finish, because in an instant, Zerachiel’s fallen warriors were on her. He stood back, admiring her skill as she fended them off, an outraged gleam in her eyes. She was fearless. It was too bad she was on the wrong side. After she jabbed a warrior in the gut with her spear, he slid up behind her, collecting a broad sword from one of his soldiers and brought the flat of it down on her head from behind, before she had a chance to react to his presence, rending her unconscious.  
  
Remiel slumped to the ground gracelessly and Raziel visibly relaxed.

“Now,” he turned to her, “Where is Mîchael.” His sister hesitated.

“If I interpreted Ella Lopez’s string of prayers correctly, he’s with Lucifer.” She answered after an uncertain pause.  
  
Zerachiel sat heavily onto the steps of his home, disbelief overwhelming him. Mîchael was with Lucifer? It was no surprise to him that his escapee had sought him out, but the idea that the Devil would actually take him back was beyond comprehension. How had Mîchael convinced him? And wasn’t he still in Hell?

“Lucifer owns a nightclub called LUX, since he’s on Earth, my bet is that he’s staying on the top floor of the same building.” She informed, averting her eyes. Zerachiel nodded. He understood. His sister had wanted out. Something must have happened to frighten her into changing her mind.

“You did the right thing by telling me.” He reassured, Raziel didn’t say anything, she just looked toward Remiel, who was being restrained as they spoke.

Zerachiel sighed, heading back in to think. He remembered Sandalphon reminding him that with Mîchael, everything was a game of strategy, and that he never did or said anything unless it served a purpose. Sandalphon was convinced that their brother had intentionally played them against each other.  
  
_“With Michael, words are weapons. And his specialty is the mastery of weapons.” Sandalphon accused harshly after they found him gone. “You made him wear a gag around your humans... if you ask me, you should’ve cut out his tongue.”_  
  
He sighed again.   
  
That may have been true, but he knew Mîchael hadn’t been faking, either. He refused to believe that. Whatever the truth was, he could worry about it later. First, he had to figure out what Raziel wanted to do with Remiel, then he would head to LA. Pulling out his phone, he began to text Sandalphon... but then he stopped. Knowing how much the fool loved Lucifer, it was best to leave him in the dark for this.  
  
He was going to get his brother back, but to do that, he had to deal with the Devil. 

  
  
**_Title Song:_** [Words are Weapons](https://youtu.be/202fjZZO-tI) by Seether

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: I might be a bit sadistic 😈  
But get ready for a LOT of cliffhangers. 😈
> 
> 😪This chapter! *goes to crawl under a blanket* 😭😭😭
> 
> Sorry I made you guys read this. Hugs all around. 🥺💔  
I promise it has a happy ending.
> 
> I love comments of all kinds.  
Thanx for reading.
> 
> P.S. Dan and Elohim are up to something. 😏


	39. Uninvited Guests

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They’re having a nice time, until ‘someone’ crashes the party.

Trixie was impressed, to say the least. My-My (he was not a fan of the name) was really good at video games. At first, when she and her mom arrived, he was playing against Lucifer, who was throwing a royal fit over how unfair it was that his twin, who had never seen a video game before in his life, kept figuring them out so quickly. In a moment of frustration, he all but threw the controls at Trixie so he could go smooch with her mom. Trixie didn’t mind. She liked it that they smooched now. Some kids thought that stuff was gross, but not Trixie. Especially since there was no way she could ever hope to get a better stepdad than the actual fallen archangel who fought against God for freewill. Not when he sometimes let her drive his corvette.  
  
Trixie and My-My had been spending the evening switching between games, mostly because Trixie wanted to know if there was anything he _wasn’t _great at. Puzzle? He figured those out the fastest. Fighting games… obviously, he nailed those. RPGs… FFVII confused him, but he figured it out. Racing games were his favorite. Currently, they were doing a Mario Kart game, and he had a ridiculous grin on his face as he passed her… again.  
  
Lucifer leaned in to watch, his eye twitching a bit. “I really don’t understand it. I’m not much for these infernal things, but it’s more than a little frustrating that I can’t beat you. I had hoped that at least the _Urchin _might.” He took a sip of something after that.  
  
My-My smirked at him. “They’re really not hard to understand, Sam.” He remarked as he braked so the blue duck would hit someone else, only to accelerate and reclaim the lead with ease.  
  
“What are you implying?” Lucifer half growled.  
  
This was met with laughter from his teasing twin. “It’s not _my _fault you’re terrible at these.” He replied as he crossed the finish line.  
  
Ella laughed from where she was by the bar. She had come in at some point during all this… Trixie honestly wasn’t paying attention. She was just thrilled that her mom was_ letting _her play so much... instead of doing homework. She knew it was because it made My-My happy. That was the trick. She had whispered it to him the other day: he could totally get anything he wanted. All he had to do was use the puppy eyes. And it had proven correct again today.  
  
“Angels, am I right?” Ella chuckled. She could hear her mom snorting in agreement from the kitchen.  
  
“I hope you weren’t referring to me, just now.” Lucifer grumped. Trixie crossed the finish line and smiled at her partner in crime.  
  
“That was your best score yet, Miss Trixie.” He praised. “Another?”  
  
“Yes!”  
  
“Why?” Ella asked, coming closer. Trixie and My-My stopped what they were doing, turning to see what the grown-ups were up to. Okay, technically, _he _was a grown-up… but Trixie felt like that was more of a technicality with him.  
  
“I’m no angel.” Lucifer replied darkly.  
  
“Your big fluffy wings suggest otherwise.” Her mom pointed out as she walked up. She wrapped her arm around him affectionately and looked up at him with love-struck eyes. Trixie was still jealous that her mom got to see his wings and she didn’t. She just_ knew_ they were wicked-cool looking.  
  
Lucifer scoffed, but he couldn’t help looking at her Mom affectionately in return… even if he was annoyed.  
  
“Dude, do you, like, not identify as angel?” Ella exclaimed, looking at him wide eyed. “Does that make you trans?” Trixie learned about that word recently during an assembly at school. It was what you called someone who changed gender, right? This conversation just got really interesting.

“Trans?” My-My softly asked Trixie, clearly confused. Trixie shrugged, and they both turned their attention to Ella.  
  
“Like, trans...species?” She elaborated with a shrug.  
  
“What???” The Devil exclaimed disbelievingly.  
  
Her mom giggled. “Hmm... never thought of that.” Lucifer looked startled by her reaction.

Turning to My-My, Trixie translated. “Ella is saying that he decided to change his species.” She grinned at him as he gaped at her.  
  
“So if you’re not an angel, what do you want to identify as?” Ella continued. Trixie and My-My both set their controllers aside and turn to face them.  
  
“I thought we covered this already. I’m the Devil!” Lucifer declared, pulling back from her mom. Yep. He was definitely insulted. My-My looked sad, probably blaming himself again.  
  
Her mom shook her head and put her hand on his cheek, stroking the scruffy part gently. “But I thought you don’t want to be the Devil.” She reminded. Trixie wasn’t sure if she was teasing or soothing him. Maybe both. Adults were complicated like that sometimes.  
  
Lucifer, predictably, melted at her touch, before scoffing and brushing her hand off indignantly. “I don’t! But...” He trailed off, not sure where to go from there.  
  
“See, that’s not gonna work for me.” Ella declared, crossing her arms. “I’m not calling you something you don’t wanna be.” That made sense to Trixie. In school, she was told that you’re supposed to refer to people how _they _want to identify. Maybe angels don’t know that, because they didn’t go to school… or did they? Was there an angel school in Heaven?  
  
“I... um...” The not-an-angel fumbled, clearly at a loss, and her mom started to laugh affectionately, covering her face with her hands.  
  
“I think he’s confused.” She decided through her giggles. Ella smiled sympathetically, and Lucifer started to grumble. Then My-My decided to chime in.  
  
“We could take a vote.” He offered earnestly. Everyone turned to look at him as he met their gaze, wide-eyed and innocent looking.  
  
Ella smiled affectionately at him. Trixie suspected that she had a crush on him, and she wondered if she was ever gonna make a move. “That’s not how it works.” She explained, sighing. “He’s the only one who gets to decide how to identify.” She stated, practically parroting what had been said during the sensitivity seminar.  
  
“This is ridiculous.” Lucifer grumbled, turning to head over to his bar to get more alcohol. Lucifer drank a lot of alcohol. He said it was because of the taste, which was funny, because as far as Trixie was concerned, the stuff was gross. Maze had offered her some once, but Trixie had immediately spit it out. Adults were weird.  
  
The Devil’s secretly conniving twin shook his head in disagreement. “But Detective Chloe said he’s confused.”  
  
“Really, Mī.” Lucifer huffed. “This is pointless...”  
  
“I vote cat.” My-My announced with a playful smirk. He leaned back on the couch, clearly pleased with himself.  
  
“WHAT???!!!” Lucifer practically shouted, launching himself up from where he had been leaning on the bar. Trixie busted up laughing. Lucifer _hated _cats. She could hear that her mom and Ella were laughing just as hard as she was.   
  
“Yeah, I second that vote. It fits.” Her mom was gasping for breath and holding her side.   
  
“He totally is!” Ella howled through her giggling. Lucifer made the funniest, most insulted face she had ever seen, straightening up to his full height, puffing his chest up a bit… not unlike a cat trying to make itself look bigger by puffing up its fur. Trixie laughed even harder.  
  
Lucifer glared at his overly amused twin. “Oh? Then what does that make you? A _puppy dog?”_ He challenged.  
  
Smiling triumphantly, My-My leaned forward a bit. “No. I still identify as angel.” He stated.  
  
Lucifer stared him down, and My-My’s pleased expression quickly shifted to concern. Trixie was about to reassure him that it was okay to tease Lucifer, but before she had a chance to say anything, the Devil’s features softened a bit and he sighed. He even smiled a bit and shook his head. There it was again.  
  
They were both so worried about hurting each other… but underneath all their uncertainty, they had a connection that Trixie, a single child, was super envious of. Then the Devil grinned.  
  
“Identify however you like, but I think puppy fits.” He decided, this time, earning a small pout from his twin. But he didn’t say anything in reply… instead, he looked at his brother quizzically, and Trixie wondered, for probably the millionth time, what was going on inside that head of his. Lucifer was much easier to read.  
  
After a long silence, her gaming partner turned back to the screen and started analyzing character choices for their next race, and almost as if it wasn’t a big deal, he said something that, to Trixie, was pretty major. “We are both made of divine light. That is what we are… everything else is subject.”  
  
“You don’t look like light to me.” Trixie said, thinking it over. She was going to be Baby Peach this time.  
  
“Not that kind of light, Spawn.” Lucifer informed, his voice sounding... odd.  
  
“What kind of light?” Ella asked, awe struck. “Because when I analyzed the DNA of an angel zombie… or whatever… the molecules kinda acted like photons sometimes… and…”  
  
She never got to finish what she was asking, because in that moment, Lucifer shushed her, suddenly growing stiff. And Trixie was surprised to see My-My freeze up, eyes growing wide and body becoming rigid.  
  
“What?” Trixie started to say, but then he started to tremble and Lucifer was at his side in an instant, grabbing him and pulling him back, looking toward the balcony with burning red eyes.

A moment later, they heard the sound of massive wings coming from the dark windows, and a shadowy form could be seen landing there.  
  
“Trix? Monkey?” Her mom said, taking her by the wrist and pulling her back and away from the dark balcony and the uninvited guest, a worried expression on her face as she placed herself in front of her and drew her gun. Ella was at her side in an instant as well. Okay, all the adults were acting wrong now. Trixie felt herself grow cold and without even thinking, she pulled the demon blade Maze had given her from under her shirt and unwrapped it. Her mom raised an eyebrow at that, but said nothing.  
  
“Show yourself.” Lucifer’s voice was deep… and it sounded unlike anything she had ever heard from him... it was almost like there was more than one of him speaking. My-My’s legs buckled and Trixie noticed he was looking for Miss Alien, which sat on the couch, just out of his reach. He sank to his knees, grabbing Lucifer’s pant leg as if to steady himself. He was breathing hard now. Too hard.  
  
What could only be enormous wings vanished with a whoosh. Then the figure opened the door coming into the light. “Lucifer.” Came the deep, smooth voice from the stranger as he walked in. He looked like he belonged on the set of an action movie. He had a friendly face, and Trixie felt the strangest feeling of trust… like she knew he would take care of her… but judging from Lucifer and My-My, that feeling was wrong, and it made her even more suspicious. Trixie raised the blade defensively.  
  
“Zerachiel!?” Lucifer blurted out. “You, too? Everyone thinks you and Sandalphon were destroyed!” He stepped back a bit in shock.  
  
The other smiled. “Yes, that’s what I needed everyone to think. Disappearing was the only way to keep the rebellion alive.”  
  
“How?” He asked, seemingly momentarily thrown off guard.  
  
“I left Father’s creation altogether. After I found the pocket reality you and your…” He glanced at My-My who was behind Lucifer and shaking like a leaf. “…twin created. Sandalphon found a way to track down your fallen warriors, and he brought them back from banishment, then they swore their allegiance to me, so we could continue our fight.”  
  
“Wait…” Her mom said, stepping forward, gun still leveled at the man… who was not a man at all. “You mean the same rebellion that Lucifer lost?” She demanded.  
  
“That rebellion died a very long time ago.” Lucifer growled quietly. “Don’t tell me you did this…” He gestured to his twin, “because you think he’s the enemy… because you’re fighting for a lost cause.”  
  
The angel sighed, looking genuinely remorseful. “Mîkā’el is not the enemy. He’s a victim of Father’s control. They all are. You know this. I’m fighting to free our siblings. Isn’t that what _you _want?”  
  
Suddenly, there was another whooshing sound and Trixie’s field of vision was filled with white. 

Magnificent, glowing wings spread out from Lucifer’s back, fanning aggressively toward Zerachiel, even as they seemed to encircle his frightened brother. Trixie gasped. They were so much better than she imagined. 

“And I supposed his reaction to you is Dear Old Dad’s doing, as well?” He sneered. “Usually, _I’m _the one blamed for other people’s evil actions, and as refreshing as it is to hear you accusing _Him_ for a change, I know trauma when I see it, and I know the look in someone’s eyes when faced with their tormenter.”  
  
Zerachiel took a half step back. Trixie couldn’t see the expression on his face anymore, the wings were blocking her view, but she could hear the accusation in his voice when he replied. 

“Yes, I’m sure you’ve seen countless souls look at you like that. This is different.”

“Quite right. Souls_ I _punish_ deserve_ it. Would you like me to _show _you what divine retribution means?” The Devil in front of them offered venomously.

Trixie heard Zerachiel sigh. “I guess I always knew you were a traitor to the cause. You’ve got your human toys, and as much freedom as anyone under Father’s thumb can have. Now, you have your twin back, and it’s no longer _convenient _for you to fight, is it? So you leave me no choice.” And with that, he let out a sharp whistle.  
  
The penthouse was suddenly overrun with people…. or… oh! _That’s_ what Maze had meant when she said there were ‘zombies.’ In a matter of seconds, they were surrounded, and Trixie found herself gripping Maze’s blade tightly. This was bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhanger!!! 😈
> 
> But enough of that, let’s play a game!😃  
Mi says Luci is a cat. 😹  
He suggested we vote.‼️
> 
> **Update: Voting is closed.**
> 
> What do you guys think? Is Lucifer a cat?  
Make your choice from the selection below:
> 
> 🐈cat (clean, graceful, self-important)  
🐧penguin (suits, flappy, adorable)  
🐾chihuahua (excitable, never shuts up)  
🐦ostrich (always has his head in the sand)  
🐿chipmunk (ADHD, hoards treasure, still cute) 
> 
> Special thanks to Imperium for helping me with this. ❤️❤️❤️
> 
> Sending love to all transgender readers... and everyone of every gender and sexuality. Shine bright! And don’t let anyone dim your brilliance. 😘


	40. From Can to Can’t

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fighting and angst.

Lucifer didn’t know what to think. Zerachiel was alive? And he was still fighting… after ALL THIS TIME? Talk about obsessive. A part of him was blaming himself. If he’d never raised arms against… No. Linda would call that an unhealthy negative loop. This was _not_ his doing. He would NOT take the blame for Zerachiel’s actions.

But he _would_ put a stop to it.  
  
As his penthouse was swarmed by fallen warriors - _fallen angels_ \- he started to laugh. Oh, this was rich. The irony was positively delectable.  
  
“You think this is a joke?” Zerachiel snapped.  
  
“Don’t you? You’re attacking me with _my own fallen angels. _What did you do? Take their freewill? Isn’t that a mite bit hypocritical of you?” He jabbed as he looked around the room. The Detective the spawn and Ms. Lopez were in a tight group, both adults guarding the child on each end.  
  
“Be silent! I’m doing what I must to finish what _you _started!” His apparently-not-dead brother roared, unfurling his wings again. With a flick of his wrist, the fallen attacked. In an instant, the Penthouse was in chaos. One half charged at the girls and the other at him and his twin.  
  
He could feel Mîchael tensing at his feet. It was unlikely that he could count on him to help. Pity. It would’ve been nice to see his brother unleash on them. But fear was a funny thing. It could render a person helpless in the face of something that shouldn’t be a threat. Like a human frightened by a mouse. 

But these mice had weapons. And there were a lot of them.  
  
Zerachiel stood back and watched as his stolen soldiers did all the work. With a flap of his wings, Lucifer knocked several of them back. Those who still had wings of their own braced against the gust. Then he heard the Detective firing her gun and he felt a surge of panic. Those bullets would have no effect. Turning around, he saw Beatrice leap out at one in a maneuver that was strikingly familiar, driving a demon blade into her side. The fallen warrior screamed and pulled back, staring in disbelief at the human child who had just bested her.  
  
Lucifer smiled. Maze had been busy.  
  
Another came at the Detective, but Ms. Lopez grabbed him by his leathern wing from behind, throwing him off balance. _“Pendejo! _Mess with my friends!_ Que te la pique un pollo!”_ She leapt on him as she cursed, throwing him off more as she jabbed her fingers into his eyes, and as he cried out in disoriented alarm, Beatrice had the blade in his gut. Two down. 

In the same instant, his Detective, assessing the situation, ducked and swept one off his feet, and borrowing the blade from her daughter, she drove it at his chest, he rolled out of the way, but not before she tore into his side, leaving a nasty gushing wound. Lucifer’s heart filled with pride.

But there was no time for praise. Enemies were approaching, and before he knew it, he was dodging a sword strike. Well, this was certainly nostalgic. He effortlessly closed the distance between them, grabbing the sword by the hilt and driving it into the other’s side. But, this maneuver created distance between him and Mîchael, so naturally, they took advantage. One of them grabbed onto Mī, whose response was to pull back and strike him in the face, busting his nose. He looked panicked, glowing eyes wide with terror, but he was on his feet now, drawing closer to Lucifer. Good, he still had some of his wits about him. The two were back to back in an instant, each dealing with whatever threats came their way as one. Zerachiel smirked, seemingly amused by their heroics. Then he held up his hand.

“Stop!” The fighting stilled, as everyone except Beatrice froze. The urchin used it as an opportunity to stab one more enemy, and he couldn’t help but think Maze was the one who taught her that as well.  
  
“What? Giving up, already? I know performance issues can be a problem, but that doesn’t mean you have to call it off, leaving me so unsatisfied.” Lucifer quipped, turning to glare at his psychotic brother.  
  
“No. I was just wondering how much your toys matter to you. Which do you value more? Your humans or our brother?” Zerachiel purred, and suddenly Lucifer felt his heart stop… only to pick up in double time. _Zerachiel could take them from him! _With just a thought. He could rob them of their freedom.  
  
“Don’t you _dare!”_ Lucifer roared, eyes flaring and Hell fire igniting across his body, changing him into the monster that haunted people’s nightmares.  
  
“Well, well, what a temper!” Zerachiel laughed as his warriors created a barrier between him and the angry Devil. “How do you plan on stopping me?”  
  
“I’ll rip you to pieces.” He snarled.  
  
Zerachiel tisked. “And the true face of evil shows itself. You probably didn’t hesitate when you destroyed Uriel, either.” He snapped. At his side, Lucifer could feel Mī growing tense. _No. _He didn’t want him to know what he had done to Uriel. He didn’t _want _his twin to see him as a monster anymore. Without even meaning to, he reverted back.  
  
“Leave the humans out of it.” He said weakly.  
  
“Why should I? Are you going to stand down and let me take Mîchael back so that I can finish your war for you?” Lucifer felt a tightness in his chest.  
  
“Why do you insist on hurting him?” He demanded, wings folding protectively around his brother.  
  
“I don’t. But I need the demiurge.” He explained almost plaintively. Lucifer felt sick. He was using his brother for his gift... everything his Mī endured was because of greed. “Decide quickly, Lucifer.”  
  
“Take me instead.” He blurted, without even thinking. “You need the demiurge, I have the other half. Leave them. Take me.”  
  
“Lucifer, no!” He heard Chloe exclaiming in desperation. And he felt his twin stagger, falling back into his wing. And it broke his heart to think that he would be leaving again... but it would be worth it to protect them.  
  
Zerachiel narrowed his eyes and looked at Lucifer as if he was seeing him for the first time. “You would… _do _that?”  
  
“If it saves the others? Yes. We can make a deal.” Lucifer offered, forcing himself to smile charmingly. Zerachiel’s face twisted into a wicked smile, and Lucifer felt disgusted.

But before either he or his filthy mingebag of a brother could say another word, Lucifer felt Mī grabbing his hand tightly and all at once, their light was flowing together._ “NO!” _His twin screamed, and in that instant, every small object in the room lifted into the air. 

Lucifer felt power flowing through them as missing puzzle pieces fell into place, and he felt a strength he had all but forgotten about. It felt... _right, _and for the first time since his Fall, he felt complete as the power of creation and destruction, life and death coursed through them both.  
  
Zerachiel’s eyes grew wide at the display, and he took a step back. Lucifer started to laugh viciously.  
  
“On second thought, I think we may just obliterate you, instead.” He grinned, fanning his wings. With a mere thought, white energy started to serge all around them, whirling about. The hovering objects were encompassed in light and the glass on the balcony doors started to shake. The fallen responded to the threat by attacking, but when one grew close, a flash of energy swept forward, barely touching him. He screamed in pain as his arm vanished. The poor sod pulled back in terror, a mere moment before the power unmade the rest of him.  
  
Lucifer had never used his gifts in combat like this before. It was intoxicating.  
  
“Fall back!” He heard Zerachiel exclaiming as he fled to the balcony and launched himself into the night, leaving his warriors to fend for themselves. They stared in panic at the two archangels who had, just moments before, been their targets.  
  
“Well, go on, then. Off you pop!” Lucifer snapped, irritably. He wasn’t really in the mood to obliterate _them. _They were slaves. It was _Zerachiel _he wanted to tear apart. _And he was getting away! _Taking the hint, the lot of them fled, grabbing their injured and dead comrades as they went, leaving the penthouse empty and trashed. Bloody Hell that was going to be a pain to clean.

Later.  
  
First, they had a vermin problem to take care of. Eager to finish what they started, he headed toward the balcony to make chase, but then he felt his brother’s hand slip from him, and all the power they had together vanished, leaving a void in its place. Frustrated, he turned around.

Mī lay crumpled on the floor.  
  
Ella was instantly at his side, handing Miss Alien over as he trembled, crying silently. The Detective was next to his side, followed by her offspring, carrying a… he sighed, it was a cinnamon roll. Chloe started counting breaths for him as Ella stroked his curls, reassuring him that the monsters were gone.  
  
Approaching, he heard his brother catch his breath as he glanced up to _glare _at him. Lucifer felt himself withering under that look. This was about destroying Uriel, wasn’t it? The Devil blinked back tears as he realized that he managed to ruin everything...  
  
“Don’t you _ever_ do that again.” Mī seethed, voice shaking.  
  
“What?” Lucifer fumbled.  
  
“Offer yourself to save us.” Chloe translated, looking at him with the _same bloody expression _on her face.

Oh. That. 

Lucifer deflated.  
  
“But for what it’s worth, that was hella’ awesome.” The child elated.  
  
After a few more minutes, with the trail having grown cold, and the bad guy having gotten away, things started to settle back down. The girls helped to clean up, and Mī wandered out to the balcony… which, considering who had just come from there, seemed a bold move… but maybe that was the point. 

Minutes later, Amenadiel… and even _Maze_ showed up, the former worried, the latter enraged. The child ran up to her favorite demon to share the story of her victories and Maze beamed proudly at her. Everyone was on high alert now, but they insisted… all of them, that he and Mī take it easy, while they all went to talk. It was more than a little annoying, but… he was grateful for a moment to think. He needed it. His mind was a whirlwind, and his emotions were going haywire.  
  
As he watched his brother, not sure how to proceed, his thoughts wandered back to the rebellion, its inevitable failure, and, of course, his Fall.  
  
They say he Fell into a lake of fire, but honestly, he couldn’t remember how it went, exactly.   
  
He remembered Falling. He remembered his broken wings, and the pain of burning. And the fear.   
  
When he landed, he was battered helpless and heartbroken. Back then, he wasn’t the Devil. He was an abandoned angel, who wanted - in spite of everything - to be loved by his family. By his Mī.  
  
He remembered praying to Mîchael for help.  
  
But when he was met by silence, he realized that his twin had forsaken him. He remembered thinking he must have been truly monstrous to have been rejected so completely.   
  
In his despair, he didn’t put up much of a fight when the demons found him.  
  
They were delighted to have such a pretty new plaything. There wasn’t much that was beautiful in Hell, and to them, he was irresistible. Intriguing, and delicious in his misery. Every so often, he would try again to reach his twin. To cry out for help.  
  
Every time, his cries were met with silence.  
  
Lucifer glanced again at Mîchael, who was curled up leaning against the railing of the balcony, once again looking small and lost, and he sighed. His brother came to him when he needed help... just as Lucifer had longed to do back then. Why hadn’t he answered? Why didn’t he come? Why?  
  
Lucifer couldn’t say how many times he tried to reach him before he finally gave up. He couldn’t remember when his pleas turned to resentment... but somewhere along the way, something switched on, and his heart hardened. 

Father selected him to rule Hell long before his rebellion, and if He had given him this task, well...   
  
He still remembered the first time he killed – _destroyed _a demon. The demon was so surprised in his last moment, not having believed the pretty angel had it in him. At first, he was horrified by his actions... but with each kill, it bothered him less.  
  
It didn’t take long after that for Lucifer to turn the tables and establish himself as King. And the crazy thing was that some part of him was still looking to regain the love of his family. He remembered praying once more, telling them both how he was being good now. He was doing what he was meant to; playing by the rules. Please, he just wanted a sign that they forgave him. It was such a small thing to ask, really.  
  
His pleas were met with silence.  
  
Shortly after, he had decided that Mîchael was dead to him, and it was his Dad’s fault.  
  
He was not sure when his face changed. Had it been immediate, or was it a slow transition? He did remember the first time he found a reflective surface in Hell. He remembered screaming to the skies, clawing at his face, flailing like a wild animal. But after the pathetic display had ended, he had come to accept it. He was a monster. And monsters belonged in Hell.  
  
By the time Mîchael _had _come, his rule was well established and his heart thoroughly hardened. He was the Devil. It was too late.  
  
Pulling himself away from his thoughts, Lucifer looked at his twin again. Mîchael was looking at him sorrowfully. Lucifer felt the skin on his face tighten as he tried to smile encouragingly at him. A stray tear slid down Mîchael’s cheek. He could only imagine what his brother was thinking. He was probably blaming himself for letting the enemy escape. He seemed to blame himself a lot, Lucifer realized. Even when there was nothing he could have done differently.  
  
And an idea came to him with that thought. What if?  
  
What if Mîchael had not answered him, _not _because he _chose_ not to, but because he _couldn’t? _If that was true... he had effectively betrayed his brother a second time when he turned him away. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Lucifer found his way out to the balcony.  
  
His Mī stood as he approached, and Lucifer absentmindedly tried to move a stray curl away from his forehead, His brother huffed, pushing his hand away.  
  
“Do you remember when I told you I would never leave you?” Lucifer asked.  
  
A second tear trailed down his brother’s cheek.  
  
“I bloody well botched that up, didn’t I?” He placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder.  
  
“No, it was my f...”  
  
Lucifer cut him off. “I’m sorry...” Mī blinked as another tear trailed down his cheek. Same cheek. Frustrated, he rubbed at his eye. Lucifer took a deep breath. “But, for what it’s worth, I won’t make that mistake again.” He wrapped his arms around the Defender of Heaven, and for a moment, neither said anything.

Then, pulling back, his brother sighed. “You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.” His voice came out soft and strained.

“I don’t.” He assured.

  
  
**_Title Song:_** [From Can to Can’t](https://youtu.be/RTxAS4jGsyU) by Sound City Featuring Corey Taylor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ella said: “I hope a chicken pecks at you dick.” Maybe the chicken can be Margaret. 🤣🐓
> 
> Luci and Mi need to have a talk about Uriel. 😪
> 
> Zeri’s moment of clarity: 😱😱😱 Shitshitshit!!!
> 
> The closing scene references two earlier scene: Mī’s memory of their pocket reality in chapter 4, and Luci’s memory of Mī coming to him in Hell from chapter 15. 🙂
> 
> First contact has been made!  
Let the games begin.😈
> 
> p.s. Voting is closed. 😀


	41. Feelings are Hard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maze is bad at feelings. Zeri and Raz are plotting.

Maze was mad.  
  
No. Forget that, she was pissed. Furious. Outraged.  
  
She knew what he was doing. That asshole. She knew everything was a war game with him. It was all strategy. And now, because of him, her human friends had been dragged into a fight between immortals.

Against Zerachiel and Sandalphon.

Former allies of Lucifer’s, still trying to overthrow God, and they were using the Murder Angel to do it... until he got away and ran to Lucifer so he would have access to the other half of the demiurge.  
  
He was curled on the couch, putting up a display of helplessness for Ella when she came in, startling at her arrival. Seeing her, he seemed to relax. Maze glared at him as Trix hopped over, blood on her hands and bouncing with adrenaline pumped excitement.

“You finally believe me?” She nodded toward the Murder Angel.

“Yep, you were totally right about the demon blade.” Her friend chirped. Then she turned to the Defender of Heaven and grinned. “Look, My-My! Maze came!”

This interaction was followed by a recounting of the fight, then the others called a group conference to order. Lucifer and his evil twin were told to “go recuperate,” which was fine with Maze. She didn’t want to deal with them - _him _\- anyway. All the others seemed to be worried about was keeping Mîchael safe, and when Maze pointed out this whole mess was his fault, they said all kinds of things to defend him, apparently refusing to see him as anything but the victim in this story.   
  
They were being stupid.  
  
He was quiet because he didn’t speak unless he knew it would be advantageous to do so. He seemed thoughtful because he was trying to gain allies. He seemed gentle because they expected it… it was a game to him.  
  
And Mîchael always played to win.   
  
Not to mention, he still had that whole goodness mojo, blinding them into seeing the quintessential angel from human storybooks, instead of the dangerous creature he truly was.  
  
Right now he was being nice. Being _cute. _Ella kept calling him that! Ugh! He even had Lucifer fooled. She hated that, because it just meant that he was gonna get hurt again when his twin no longer needed him. But everyone just refused to see it that way.  
  
Maze knew better. She knew the truth.

“The important thing is that, no matter what, Lucifer stays with Michael.” Decker insisted, pulling her from her thoughts.

“I agree. Zerachiel and Sandalphon can’t compete with the demiurge.” Amenadiel agreed.

Maze rolled her eyes. “Or we could just give him back to them, then it won’t be our problem anymore.” She challenged. This comment earned her glares from everyone. Because of course it did.

Seeing that there was no reasoning with them, she silently seethed for the rest of their “talk,” then when everyone dispersed, she found herself heading over to keep an eye on him. But that may have been a mistake, because he even started to fool her. She was almost convinced when she saw the twins on the balcony. No wonder Lucifer was falling for it. Then, after they came in, he locked eyes with her.

“Thank you for giving Miss Trixie a Hell forged blade.” He said._ How dare he?!?_

“I gave it to her so she could kill _you.”_

He nodded solemnly. “If she calls me My-My again, the blade may be unnecessary.” He remarked.

Maze snorted before she caught herself. No! He was manipulating her too, now!  
  
And as the evening progressed, she found out how good he really was at manipulating, and making people _feel _things... things she would never feel. Like how much she_ didn’t _hate being around him. She hated not hating it, because she knew it was a lie. She snarled in frustration.  
  
Maze really hated angels. 

And she had had enough! She was going to call him out on all his bullshit, make sure he knew she knew exactly what he was: a manipulative..._ angel. _  
  
Finally seeing an opportunity to confront him, she marched up to Lucifer’s bathroom. He was alone in there, and since everyone was preoccupied, she slipped in. She wasn’t gonna let them get in her way.  
  
She knew walking in on him like this would probably upset him. Hopefully, it would throw him off guard, and she could get a good look at the real Mîchael. Expose him for what he really was.   
  
Maze played to win too.  
  
She could see steam coming from Lucifer’s oversized tub, billowing out from behind the shower curtain. Approaching, she tore open the curtain, expecting him to startle, but he was already looking her way as he turned off the water.  
  
Maze grinned viciously.  
  
He fidget under her scrutinizing gaze, taking a nervous step back and glancing around her. She didn’t hide the fact that she was taking in every inch of him… and his completely uncovered nakedness. Damn him. He looked too much like Lucifer. The same Lucifer she used to have so much fun with. Maybe this was a mistake.  
  
Eyeing her guardedly, he finally spoke, “Well, if you’re going to be in here, the least you could do is give me one of those towels, Demon.” There was no edge to his voice, but no warmth either. Maze didn’t like that. But he was right.   
  
She grabbed a towel from the counter and threw it at him, which, of course, he caught. Then as he wrapped it around himself, eyes glued to her the entire time, he sighed. “What do you want, Mazikeen of the Lilim.”  
  
“I’m pissed.” She snapped, crossing her arms and glaring at him.  
  
Mîchael shook his head and stepped out of the tub, his posture guarded and drawn in. “I can see that.” He looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to elaborate.  
  
“I’m pissed because no one hates you.” He tilted his head, brows furrowing. She glared harder. “I know what you’re doing. And I’m not fooled.”  
  
Mîchael found his temple in his hand, and sighed again, exasperated. “So you walked in on me because you’re mad you don’t hate me?” He demanded.  
  
Damn it, she never said_ she _didn’t hate him. But he wasn’t wrong. She didn’t hate him. But she wanted to, she was supposed to. He stared at her, with an almost nervous, calculating look. “No, I came in here to let you know I’m on to you. I know what you are.” Sitting down on the edge of the tub, he waited. Quiet. Fine. If he was letting her do the talking, she would do the talking.

“You’re nothing but Daddy’s attack dog, kept on a short leash and let loose only when He needs you to strike. And the ever obedient trained pet that you are, you always do what He says. You got everyone fooled with this stupid puppy dog act, but not me. You’re not cute. You’re dangerous, and if you hurt _any_ of them, I will _end _you.” Maze snapped savagely, sure that her biting words hit home.  
  
But he seemed unmoved by her speech. After a long pause, he shrugged. “You’re right.”   
  
“What?” He wasn’t supposed to agree. Maze was not prepared for that. She had no attack plan for it.  
  
“I’m a warrior, a killer...” He trailed off, seemingly lost in thought as he looked at her like she was an unsolvable puzzle.  
  
“Soo...” Maze was fumbling now. She didn’t like how this conversation was going. He was the one who was supposed to be uncomfortable, not her. “You’re gonna quit this charade now, right, Murder Angel?” He raised his eyebrow at the name.  
  
“I’m not trying to fool anyone. I hate it when they call me cute. I’m not, and I’m not trying to be, either.” He said it tersely.   
  
“Yes you are! This is all an act! A_ game _to you!” Maze snarled. “It has to be, because if you’re not doing this on purpose… if you’re not...” She trailed off as those annoying _feelings_ started to surface again. Linda said feelings made people strong, but right now, she just felt stupid. Because it was all an act… Because… If it wasn’t an act that meant...

No.

It_ was_ an act.   
  
“If I’m not, what?” He asked softly.  
  
“If you’re not, then I was wrong about you all this time!” She raged, slamming her fist down on the counter.  
  
Mîchael flinched at her sudden movement, and damn it, Maze knew his reaction wasn’t faked. He pulled pack, breaths coming in jaggedly, and eyes wide. Then, after a moment he closed his eyes and steadied his breathing. When he opened them again, he looked at her thoughtfully, tilting his head curiously before his expression changed to one of understanding, and a slight smile graced his lips. Crossing his arms, he tisked at her.

“Careful, now, Mazikeen of the Lilim. That _almost _sounded like affection.” He smirked teasingly at her. She glared defiantly back.  
  
Damn him. He was winning. Again!  
  
“For what it’s worth,” he looked up at her, eyes softening. “I was wrong, too.” He blinked and bit his lower lip as the amusement faded from his features. Maze’s glare slipped from her face. There it was, the truth she had been trying to expose, but it wasn’t what she expected.   
  
Mîchael’s eyes were deep wells, consumed by a haunted look that spanned eons. Maze couldn’t bring herself to be mad at that. After all, isn’t this what she had wanted? For him to feel bad about what he had done? To Lucifer? To all those demons…   
  
Growling in defeat, Maze sat down next to him, dropping her head into her hands. After an uncomfortable silence, she lifted her head to see him eyeing her wearily. It was almost as if he saw her as a wolf about to snatch a sheep. And he was the sheep. Which was ridiculous. He was the apex predator, not some cowed prey animal in need of hiding.  
  
But he didn’t look like a killer. He didn’t look vicious. He looked… _broken._  
  
“So what comes next?” She finally voiced, feeling sick with herself. “Are you gonna go back to being Daddy’s pedigree attack dog when this is over, or do you wanna be Lucifer’s spoiled puppy now?”  
  
Shaking his head, he stood up to fetch his clothes, which had been neatly folded on the sink counter. It was obvious to Maze that he was putting distance between them. “I don’t know. I feel like an attack dog whose teeth were pulled out.” He laughed at this, but it was a cold humorless laugh. Maze understood. “And I have no interest in being Sammy’s spoiled_ pet.”_  
  
“Then why do you act like it?”   
  
He started to throw his clothes on, all the while, eyes glued to her. He really was nervous, she realized. She wanted to feel pleased. That was what she was trying to accomplish, after all.  
  
But it made her feel slimy to see him looking at her like that.  
  
“I don’t mean to.” He sighed after he slid into his pants and shirt. It was the same Devil emoji PJs he had on during their first encounter, and she couldn’t help laughing, because now he really _was _cute. His hair was a curly wet mess in his face and Maze had the sudden impulse to brush the strands away from his eyes. Damn him. She had to get out of there.  
  
“Whatever. Just... don’t... whatever you do, don’t hurt them.” She said weakly, standing to leave. It was a pathetic conclusion, and it sounded like defeat to her.  
  
As she walked passed him toward the door, she felt his hand on her shoulder. Surprised, she turned to see him looking at her, with the slightest hint of warmth in his eyes. “How is it you alone see me for what I am?” Maze gaped at him disbelievingly. She had been trying to _upset_ him. His reaction was all wrong. Fine. Whatever.  
  
“I don’t know, seems pretty obvious to me that you’re an ass.” She quipped.  
  
He snorted in response to that, then smiled reassuringly. “You have my word, Mazikeen of the Lilim. I will not hurt you if it is at all in my power not to.”  
  
It wasn’t exactly comforting, but it was honest.  
  
And he had said,_ ‘you’ _not_ ‘them.’ _He was promising not to hurt _her. _A strange warm feeling filled her up... No. Feelings like this were bad.   
  
Maze grinned at him, deciding to ignore the icky feelings for now, and shoot for humor. “Oh, you won’t hurt _me? _Careful now, Mîchael. That almost sounded like affection.” She taunted.  
  
“So it did,” He agreed, taking his hand from her shoulder, and with that, she left, a strange mixture of feelings jostling around inside her.  
  
Mîchael always played to win.  
  
She shook her head.  
  
She _really. _Hated. Angels.

***

Rage.  
  
Damn Lucifer back to the fiery pits where he belonged! For a moment, he had Zerachiel fooled, had him thinking that maybe he wasn’t as selfish as he had thought, but it was just a ploy. A ploy to spur Mîchael into action. He pretended to be selfless, and that was all it took. And now Lucifer had access to all the power he could want.  
  
The power of a God.   
  
Because that was what it was. Plain and simple. He had wondered at what kind of power the two possessed together to be able to create a new reality. Now he knew. And he knew that the only way he was ever getting his hands on either of them was if he separated them first. Mîchael didn’t deserve to suffer, but _Lucifer _did.   
  
Sandalphon would never go along with it, though, and he still needed his idiot younger brother. He needed him to keep bringing warriors back from the Beyond. And with that, an idea came to mind. Sandalphon didn’t have to go along with it. Not if he could get him out of the way… perhaps it was time for another trip to round up fallen warriors.  
  
Zerachiel landed at the edge of his lawn and pulled out his phone. He sent Sandalphon a quick text, then he called one of his warriors. After a short conversation, he was surprised to find that they had all been allowed to leave. Lucifer was bragging by letting them go. It made Zerachiel even angrier. And with that anger, came a plan. If he could get Lucifer, Mîchael would follow. Then he would have both, and he could use one to control the other. Mîchael could create life… he _knew _that. He wasn’t sure what Lucifer could do… but if he threatened -_ hurt _Lucifer… maybe Zerachiel wouldn’t have to hurt his Mîchael anymore. And with both halves, creating new angels would come easily.  
  
Yes, that would do nicely.  
  
But first, he needed information.  
  
Strutting across the lawn, he saw Raziel sitting in the porch swing, with Remiel trussed up at her feet, awake, and thoroughly angry. Zerachiel raised an eyebrow at his sisters.

“Why didn’t you put her in the dungeon?” He demanded. Remiel squirmed and let loose a string or muffled sounds through her gag which he could only assume were insults. Raziel rolled her eyes.

“You really are an idiot, aren’t you? I told you already when you suggested it this morning.” She shook her head. “Father is down there. You want me to give Him an ally?”

Disregarding the insult, he laughed. “Father is in a cage, powerless, and under my control... but suit yourself.”

Remiel squirmed with newfound rage, trying to flap her bound wings and trying to snarl through the gag. Raziel sighed. “I’m taking her to Australia. I found a safe place to keep her, but I need your help... and of course you vanished right when I was ready to go... don’t tell me you tried to attack Lucifer without a plan.” Zerachiel didn’t say anything. He coughed and looked away. Remi let out a muffled laugh. Raz rolled her eyes again.  
  
“Alright, then. I’ll help you move our sister... but I need something from you.” The Angel of Secrets raised an eyebrow. “I need information. How do I take down Lucifer?”   
  
“Chloe Decker.” His sister replied.  


**_Special Note:_** Voting concluded. To see the fan art, click [here](https://www.deviantart.com/manic-goose/art/The-True-Face-of-Evil-837050167) to view in on deviantArt, or check out the short fic: [The True Face of Evil](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23547409). Thank you for voting!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maze! Finally coming around... but seriously girl, boundaries!🙄
> 
> Mi’s reaction: 😳😰😩😌
> 
> Zerachiel changing targets... sort of. Still dense.
> 
> Unfortunately, Raz is smarter than him.
> 
> Remi: 🤬🤬🤬


	42. Sweet Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mîchael still can’t talk about what happened, but he finds a way to let Lucifer know.
> 
> Special note: The scenes from their past compiled together make my short fic: To Create.

_“Sweet dreams are made of these, who am I to disagree...” _His voice was soft, so as not to wake anyone. Especially Mī, who had, just a little bit ago, finally drifted into an uneasy sleep. Ella was with him, and Lucifer just hoped that would be enough to keep the monsters in his head at bay for a little while. He deserved as much peace as he could get.

With a trembling hand, Lucifer clutched the tumbler and took a sip, struggling to swallow as the lump in his throat wouldn’t go away.

Bloody Hell.

There wasn’t enough alcohol in the world to cope with this.

His grip tightened on the tumbler. _“...I traveled the world and the seven seas, everybody’s looking for something...”_

Lucifer was losing it.

He had wanted to give his brother more time, to wait until he was _ready_ to talk… but Zerachiel forced his hand. So after everyone in the penthouse had settled down, he made his way into his brother’s room, finding him still awake, holding onto the stuffed toy, his head on Miss Lopez’s lap as he stared listlessly at an empty spot on the ceiling. Miss Lopez looked at Lucifer as he came in and offered a worried half smile.

“Can’t sleep either?” She voiced through a yawn.

“I... no.” Lucifer sighed. He didn’t want to ask her to leave, not when her presence helped... but the conversation he needed to have seemed like one that should be kept private.  
  
“Feelings are hard.” His brother remarked softly, eyes still glued to whatever phantom he was so interested in on the ceiling. Lucifer nodded. He understood the sentiment.  
  
“But they can be good, too, right?” Miss Lopez suggested, running her fingers through his curls.  
  
Mîchael shifted to look at her, confused by her comment. “I... suppose?”  
  
She smiled encouragingly at him. “Like… cinnamon rolls make you happy, and you like hanging out with Lucifer, and me, and Trixie and, like, when Charlie is grabbing your cheeks?” She offered.  
  
Lucifer sat down on the bed heavily as Mîchael’s eyes grew distant again, tears glistening at the threshold, ready to overflow. Miss Lopez swallowed hard at his response.  
  
“I… yes, those are good...” He settled on, though the tremor in his voice suggested otherwise. Then, wiping his eyes, he looked at Lucifer, a strange, _desperate_ expression on his face. “Family can be good too… sometimes.” He sat up, taking a deep, steadying breath. And when he locked eyes with Lucifer, it was obvious that he knew Lucifer had come to ask him about Zerachiel. But then he said something that was completely off topic. “Remember, Sam? The story I told you? About the _one_ time Amenadiel and I had actually gotten along?”  
  
Lucifer didn’t remember. “What, were drugs involved?” He joked, knowing it was preposterous.  
  
“So you do remember?” Lucifer was momentarily thrown off by that. As far as he knew, his brother always stayed away from intoxicants. But then he noticed how Mī was looking at him with intent, and he realized he wasn’t avoiding the subject at all. He just had to figure out what his brother was trying to get at. “Father asked me to make mind-altering plants.”  
  
Miss Lopez gawked, proceeding to launch into a rant about something… but Lucifer didn’t catch it, as long buried memories were springing to the forefront of his mind. Excusing himself, he made a quick exit, and headed straight for the bar. He grabbed a random bottle of top shelf whisky, popped the lid and started gulping it down. He remembered their pocket realm in vivid detail. The fields, the waterfalls, the hills, and the creatures… creations they had _made…  
  
Samael liked them. Not bad for a first try. He laughed as the little furry things scampered about, chasing their long fluffy tails and tumbling about on lanky legs. Reaching out, he called one over with a melodious whistle. It bounded up to him and scampered onto his hand. Just a little too big to fit, it wrapped its paws around his wrist to hold on as he lifted it up, its tall pointy ears twitching excitedly and its bright eyes looking at him lovingly. The archangel beamed affectionately at the little creation.  
  
“Mī? I think I know why Father likes making creatures so much now.” He announced as the little four legged animal scampered up his arm, tickling him along the way.  
  
Mîchael opened his eyes from where he lay in the grass next to his twin and smiled tiredly back. “They are cute. But really, are you sure orange is a good color? It seems a little too vibrant.”  
  
“That’s the point.” Samael laughed as the little animal ran over the back of his neck and leapt off, chirping as it went. “Next time, let’s give them feathers!” He elated.  
  
“Next time?” His twin sat up with a start. “You want to do this again?”  
  
Samael turned to face him, surprised by the reaction. But he immediately felt bad about it. Mîchael looked exhausted and he was ashamed that he hadn’t realized it before. His twin had the ability to manifest and transform raw materials, and Samael had the ability to give them form. Not really a difficult task for either… but to give life, Mîchael had to use his light. The amount he had needed to grow plants was almost nothing, and Samael had assumed creatures would be more or less the same. How wrong he was. This handful of tiny beings seemed to have left his brother completely and utterly spent.  
  
“Oh...I’m so sorry, Mī, I had no idea.” He took his brother in his arms and he could feel him relaxing again. “We don’t have to make more if it’s too much for you.” He reassured.  
  
Mîchael closed his eyes and sighed. “It’s probably for the best if we don’t anyway,” He breathed._  
  
Of course, they couldn’t help making more. The lure of creating, of seeing exactly what they could accomplish was just too much to resist - even for Mîchael. When his twin figured out a way to store away energy for later, it became easier to create things... a simple matter of converting that energy into... well, _matter. _But giving something life - and a soul - still came at a steep price. Divine light with the spark of life within it... his half of the demiurge.

Zerachiel had always admired Mîchael... had always felt his gift was special. But somehow that admiration turned to avarice.

_“Why do you insist on hurting him?” _

_“I don’t. But I need the demiurge.”_

Lucifer poured more whisky into his tumbler. _“...Some of them want to use you.” _Was it possible?

_“He’s… with Linda... In really bad shape… his light is fading,” _Amenadiel’s words rang in his ears. The words that spurred him into leaving Hell... to save his Mī.

The memory of finding him at the brink of death hit him like a sledgehammer, as terrible understanding took shape.

_Mîchael lay curled up on his side, bandaged and tucked in. His face was drawn and scrunched up in pain, and his body was far too still. His head was burning up and his skin was clammy.  
  
No.  
  
No, no, no, this was wrong. This wasn’t supposed to happen, this should never have happened._

Lucifer chased the memory away with another drink... it didn’t help. _“...Some of them want to get used by you...” _At the time, he thought his condition was caused by self-actualization, but now he was starting to realize it was something far worse. His light had been faint. Why had it been slipping from him?

It shouldn’t’ve been possible. Unless... Zerachiel found a way to take it. Take the power of creation. And with a wave a nausea, Lucifer suddenly knew what he wanted it for.

The one time Amenadiel and he had gotten along.  
  
How could he have forgotten?   
  
Well, that was an obvious one.  
  
He forgot because he had been trying really hard not to remember anything to do with his Mī. But he remembered now. He remembered how they kept going back, creating more each time. Their secret paradise had become a sanctuary where they could just be themselves, away from their Parents and siblings.

_“No!” Samael gasped, “Then what happened?”  
  
“We all started acting ridiculous, or course. I can’t say I’m fond of altering my state of mind... but I will admit that Amenadiel is much improved by it.” Mī chuckled.  
  
Samael laughed, trying to imagine their overly serious brother as anything other than stone-faced. “And this is what Dad wanted?” He looked at his brother incredulously.  
  
“He wanted me to create mind-altering plants. How am I to know if I succeeded without testing them?” He grinned at his brother as a feathered creature with red wings like starlight flitted between them.  
  
“Yes, that’s true. So Menny was more fun? Give me an example!” Samael implored, leaning in.  
  
“We were talking about that funny thing creatures do to create more of themselves...”  
  
“Dad calls it ‘mating’ Mī.”  
  
“We got into an argument over whether it was painful or pleasant. He insisted it must be quite enjoyable or they wouldn’t be tripping over themselves all the time to do it. But I think it must be painful, because of the sounds and expressions they make.”  
  
Samael started to laugh, holding his side and falling back. “Oh, trust me, brother, they don’t just find it enjoyable, its pure pleasure for them. They looooove it. It seems to be their favorite thing to do, actually.” His eyes were twinkling as he looked at his confused brother. “Now, why this subject, precisely? Out with it, where did this line of discussion take you? I must know!”  
  
“Amenadiel suggested that we angles might want to give it a try someday... But it would be meaningless, since angels can’t procreate.” Mîchael laughed, thinking the whole subject ridiculous.  
  
“What?” Samael had tears in his eyes. For Amenadiel, of all siblings, to propose such an outlandish idea, that plant was something special. “He was considering coupling with one of those lizards? Really?”  
  
Mîchael shrugged. “I doubt he put that much thought into it. But when I pointed out that I could create life, somehow the others got it into their heads that I ought to share the wealth, so I gave each of them one spark of light... just enough for one creation. But it can only be activated if both parties involved intrinsically want it.”  
  
“You didn’t!” Samael gaped.   
  
Mîchael covered his face in his hands, clearly ashamed. “I shouldn’t have, but I was felling silly, and it seemed like a good idea at the time.” Samael started laughing at his embarrassed brother. A little two headed lizard scampered over his legs as he reveled in the absurdity of what his brother had done.   
  
“Can you imagine angel lizard hybrids scampering around messing up Dad’s creations?” He laughed even harder as he imagined angels with stubby arms, oversized heads filled with sharp teeth, and long thick tails. It was too much. “It’s a good thing that none of them are likely to ever actually try it!” He cackled.  
  
“Indeed. I would rather forget this incident ever happened. I suspect Amenadiel Remiel and Raguel feel the same way.” Mîchael frowned. “But... eternity is a very long time, there’s no telling what might change.”  
  
Samael nodded. “And when our eldest brother becomes a father to a four legged half-angel-lizard-kid, I will only tease him about it for one hundred cycles around the star.” He vowed before cracking up again. “But really, it sounds like you all had fun... without me! Where was I during all this?” He pouted.  
  
Mîchael smiled at his brother. “Making more stars for Father. Seriously, how many more of them do you plan on making?”  
  
It was Samael’s turn to blush. “A million more for each time Mum and Dad fight. I can’t get them to stop, but I can make them smile.” He sighed.  
  
His brother looked at him with the strangest expression for a while before he grinned at him. “And who’s the emotional one now?” He teased, then more seriously, he continued. “But I’m sure they appreciate the gesture.”  
  
“I hope so.” The Lightbringer replied softly. _  
  
Lucifer’s vision blurred at the memory he had _wanted _so badly to forget. He had tried to return to their sanctuary after his Fall. But it was gone. He thought Mîchael had destroyed it, severing the last connection they had. After that, it was too painful to remember.

But now he knew his Mī would never do that... so what happened? Why hadn’t he found it? Was Zerachiel somehow responsible? Just as he was responsible for nearly destroying Mîchael...

_“...Some of them want to abuse you...” _Lucifer’s voice shook.

It was so clear now. Zerachiel was after Mîchael because he could create life. _Like Charlie. _Charlie was Mī’s doing as much as anyone else’s... And Lucifer wondered. He _knew _the bastard had found a way to syphon his light. What else had his former comrade done in his quest to create? Lucifer had a suspicion... he didn’t want to believe... but...

Mī couldn’t _talk _about what had happened to him. ...He _couldn’t... _And when he first woke - _three days _after he’d been healed - he almost wasn’t able to speak at all...

Zerachiel was going to pay.  
  
_“...Some of them want to be abused.” _He wasn’t singing anymore, and the tumbler in his hand shattered as he clenched his fist. He cried out in rage as the glass cut into his hand.  
  
Amenadiel startled from where he was snoring on the couch. He sat up blinking to see Lucifer at the bar, nursing his bleeding hand, and he got up. The look of concern on his face made the Devil laugh. A manic, crazed sound.

Lucifer was really losing it.  
  
“Not sleeping well?  
  
“At all, brother. Not sleeping at all. Mī finally found a way to tell me what Zerachiel is trying to do with him.”  
  
The first born straightened up, worried and determined. “And?”  
  
Lucifer laughed humorlessly at the broken glass. “You remember when Mī gave you a spark of his light?” Amenadiel grew still.  
  
“I…” Suddenly his brother’s eyes widened in alarm as his knees gave out and he sank legless onto a barstool. “Dear, Father! I remember! How could I have forgotten?” He exclaimed.  
  
Lucifer picked a few shards from his palm and grabbed a cloth to soak up the blood. “Probably because you were stoned out of your wits. Congratulations brother, you’ve joined the illustrious ranks of fathers whose children are the product of partying too hard.” He laughed, actually rather amused by this. Then he laughed at the hysteria he heard in his own voice before he grew serious again. “Zerachiel wants to create new angels.” He grabbed another bottle and pried the top off, it was strangely difficult and he was surprised by how uncoordinated he was. Amenadiel gaped at him.  
  
“Mîchael doesn’t deserve to be used like that!”  
  
Lucifer wanted to mock him for stating the obvious, but he couldn’t find it in him. Sighing, he took a swig, spilling a bit, and stumbled to his feet. Then he headed for his bed, leaving his brother to think. 

Huh, stumbling wasn’t like him... was he actually...  
  
Was he actually _drunk? _As he wondered about this, he remembered that the Detective was there. He giggled triumphantly at this small victory and made his way over to his room, collapsing onto his bed, next to the woman he loved, who mumbled something in her sleep about him reeking of booze as he let oblivion take him. Lucifer welcomed it.

He doubted he would ever be able to sleep again after this.

  
  
_**Title Song:**_ [Sweet Dreams](https://youtu.be/cxdwEOpGknk) cover by Emily Browning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter in a nutshell.
> 
> Mi: 🥺
> 
> Luci: 😶🤔😲🤯😨😡🤬😂🤬🥃💥🤬
> 
> Menny: 😧
> 
> Luci:🤬😂😭🤬
> 
> Menny:🤔🤯😱
> 
> Luci: 🤬😂😭🤬🥴😴


	43. Everybody Knows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zerachiel and Raziel deal with Remiel. Dan and Elohim learn a hard truth. Azrael visits Hell.  


Australia wouldn’t have been his first choice, but the unforgiving land, recently ravaged by fires, was certainly remote. He glanced at Raziel as he carried their unconscious charge, bound similarly to how Mîchael had once been. To make transport easier, he had conked her on the head again. Remi was small in his arms, and he felt a measure of sadness that she had been drawn into the fray before he completed his objective. He had to remind himself that he was doing this for her as well as the rest of them. The ends justified the means.   
  
They approached a sort of ramshackle hut, and he wondered if it would be secure enough to contain her. Raziel notice him hesitate.  
  
“We only need hold her long enough for me to explain myself to her, or until you’ve dealt with Lucifer and Mîchael. If she judges my actions unjustified after I’ve talked to her, I’ll give you a chance to disappear again, then I’m turning myself in.” She explained sadly.  
  
Zerachiel stilled at the doorway. “Sister, no! They may destroy you.” How could she possibly be willing to do this to herself? Remiel was a terrible judge of right and wrong!  
  
Raziel opened the door and motioned for him to enter, and he saw that there were stairs leading down into a well-hidden basement. “I’m tired of fighting and keeping secrets from our family. It’s getting out of hand. I got into this mess because I wanted to fix things, and Uriel knew how. All of this was to spark a new era, and fix a broken system. I think it’s safe to say that no matter what happens now, things will change. Nothing can stop that.” She started down, and Zerachiel followed, confused. Uriel never told him why he had betrayed his commander. All he knew was that Uriel believed he was still serving Father.  
  
“I promise, Father will be retired when this is done, and everything will be fixed. And when I claim the Silver City, I will personally see to it that Mîchael doesn’t have to suffer ever again.”  
  
They reached the bottom of the stairs and he saw a wall fixed up similarly to the one that was in his fortress, and as understanding set in, he went to work fastening the locks around their sister. Raziel stood aside, a conflicted look on her face.  
  
“Even if you lose, things will never be the same.” She stated softly. “Let me ask you something,” Zerachiel paused in his efforts to turn toward her. “I told you how to control Lucifer. What will you do to him? Will he be the one to suffer now, instead of his twin?” Her voice was trembling.  
  
Zerachiel stepped back squaring his shoulders. Chloe Decker, the miracle who tamed the Devil. The way the Lightbringer looked at her, he had good reason to believe he would do almost anything to keep his favorite toy from being broken. But even if Lucifer had the demiurge… it was the wrong half. He still needed Mîchael… would he be willing to submit? To give his light freely in order to spare his twin from suffering?  
  
“It depends, but probably, yes. Either way, I need him out of the way.” 

Raziel nodded, a grim satisfaction in her eyes.

***

Dan watched from where he stood by the door as lookout, while yet another zombie angel… or whatever... (Elohim called them Fallen) relaxed in the Creator’s hold and sunk to his knees, suddenly weighted with an understanding of right and wrong. He gasped and tears sprang to his eyes. It was a familiar sight. Dan had been leading people down, humans and celestials alike, one at a time, to be released from Zerachiel’s hold and in the case of the Fallen, from what God referred to as “Reality Sickness,” before sending them up to decide for themselves what they believed.

_“What’s reality sickness?” Dan had asked the first time his friend mentioned it._

_“They aren’t used to reality anymore. Nothing in the Beyond is real, and it can drive a person mad.”_  
  
The zombie angel, a tall blond with lanky limps marred by rotten flesh and dead blue eyes, clambered to his feet, listening as Elohim delivered the same speech he had given all of them.  
  
“I have released you, my son. You are free now to decide right and wrong for yourself. I would keep this from Zerachiel if I were you, lest your autonomy be taken again.” He leaned back in his cage… a cage that was more of a farce than anything else at this point, and smiled benevolently at the being he released.  
  
“You’re not going to take my freewill, too?” The angel blurted, looking at him in shock.  
  
“Whatever for?” God asked, dark eyebrows arching.  
  
The angel sputtered at that, leaning in close to whisper harshly at him. “Because that’s what you do! You’re a tyrant. And you punish anyone who challenges your absolute authority, even your favorite son!” He was glaring and his body was trembling with barely contained rage.  
  
Dan felt himself grow cold. Great. They freed a loyalist.   
  
“There are several things wrong with that statement.” God remarked calmly.  
  
“Yeah? Like what?” Came the venomous reply.  
  
“If I tell you, will you listen?” Elohim asked calmly. The angel zombie crossed his arms and waited, glaring as he did. Sighing, God continued. “Back then, my children were not ready for independence. Yes, I could take their will, but I never did. If I truly subverted the will of my archangels, the rebellion never could have happened. I can see how you might think I was too controlling, but to be fair, I am a father, and keeping my children safe was my first priority at the time.  
  
The angel scoffed at that, waving his hand. “Safe, right. If that were true, why all the fighting?”  
  
“I didn’t cause it, I allowed it. There’s a difference. Children fight sometimes, and sometimes a parent needs to let them work it out. I’m sorry you don’t like how I handled things back then. And I’m sorry you suffered for it.” The Fallen startled at the apology, momentarily thrown off, but then the sneer returned.  
  
“I was banished!” He snarled.  
  
“Not my idea.” Then he sighed and looked at him, exasperated. “You know, my son, you can’t have it both ways. You can’t demand freedom and still blame me when everything falls apart after I gave you want you wanted. Either you want to be guided by me and kept safe, or you want freedom at the risk of suffering. Paradise or freewill.”   
  
The angel grew quiet at that, then after a bit, he spoke, his voice heavy with heartbreak. “Sandalphon found us. Out there, everything is a collection of hodgepodge ideas that never were, warring with one another. It’s pure insanity.” A tear slipped from a dead eye.  
  
“I am aware.” God said simply.  
  
“I thought we would be serving _Lucifer _again. That we would finally be _free, _but then Zerachiel… I forgot about everything that mattered, and I didn’t even flinch when your children dragged the archangel in, hooked him up to the wall and tormented him, drawing out his light… and… forcing him to…” He started to sob, crumpling into a sitting position as his narrative fell apart, and God reached through the bars and placed a hand on his shoulder. Dan drew closer. 

“We Fallen were never going to be enough to defeat You. So they decided they needed new archangels: a new generation. Mîkā’el could give them what they wanted. But at first… all they got were ‘failed experiments’ imbued with corrupted light… and… unwilling to waste the divinity, Zerachiel had them… _terminated_ so he could harvest their light. Lot of good it did. Sure, it would fix us, make us whole again, but after a day or two...” He stood back up and held out his hands, as if to show that we was still a monstrosity. “But even so, even when we knew it wouldn’t help, I... _we _still let it happen… just like we let...” He buried his face in his clenched hands and took a couple staggering gasps. 

“We all _knew _what he did to him behind closed doors, we didn’t even pretend...” He choked on a sob as Dan and Elohim exchanged looks. The others had all been so quiet about it. It was clear they felt shame, but they also seemed to fear what God might think or do. And now Dan knew why.

Wandering the fortress while looking for the sword, he had learned a lot, but he hadn’t quite pieced it together yet, and honestly, he was afraid that if he learned the truth, he wouldn’t be able to keep the anger from his eyes... or the queasiness from his gut, but the room with the medical facilities, and incubators... and the liberated doctor rambling about killing test tube babies. Dan knew he was being an ostrich, sticking his head in the sand. Pretending not to understand what that room was for, or the other one; the one with the bed... and the chains.  
  
“You must not let yourself feel guilt for what happened. The responsibility lies on the shoulders of the one who stripped you of your will.” God reassured. His voice was soft, but his eyes were ablaze.  
  
Dan nodded. “He’s a total asshole. How is he an angle? It makes me sick.”  
  
“He wasn’t always like this. He lost his way, and now, he somehow got doing what must be done and doing harm confused. And he uses that confusion to delude himself into believing he is justified when he takes what he wants.” 

The newly liberated Fallen looked between them with weary eyes, and after sniffing and straightening, he ventured to speak, his voice soft at first, but building in intensity. “Lost his way? He turned us into mindless pawns and used the brother he professes to love for forced breeding. And the creep _enjoyed_ it. If you care as much as you pretend to, why haven’t you torn this place apart yet?” He demanded accusingly.  
  
Dan stared in silence, feeling more and more nauseous with each minute. 

“Oh, I intend to.” Elohim’s voice was razor sharp. “But I’m barely more than human at the moment. Zerachiel has the medallion, and I can’t access it unless it’s close to me.” God sighed. Then he smiled kindly at the angry, conflicted zombie angel. “And I haven’t finished yet. There are still far too many of you under his influence.”

The discussion was cut short at that moment when Dan heard one of Zerachiel’s generals calling him up. He felt a chill. The higher ranking warriors had proven too difficult to lure, and honestly, their cruelty and fanatical obedience terrified him. “I… ah… I gotta go.” He said, slipping out of the room. Rounding the corner, he found himself facing a skeleton winged creature missing a sizable junk from his skull. He was holding Dan’s phone and grinning viciously.  
  
“While the boss is away, dealing with the Huntress, he put me in charge. Understand?” Dan nodded meekly. “I have received orders that you are to send a text to Chloe Decker. You will write the message and I will confirm it’s adequate before sending it.”  
  
Dan took the phone, resisting the urge to tremble. They were going to drag Chloe into this mess, now? Why? “What am I to say?” He asked with as little emotion as he could.  
  
“It’s time for her to join our flock.” He replied curtly.

***

Azrael landed in Hell with a flourish, but when she looked to the throne, she noticed Lu wasn’t there. Shrugging, she made her way to his rooms. This was what she got for showing up unannounced... but she wanted to surprise her favorite brother... seeing as last time they crossed paths, he had groused about her never visiting. If she was going to come anyway, why not take the time to do it right?  
  
Lu wasn’t in his rooms, either. But then, as she was about to leave to look for him elsewhere, she heard a sound coming from the library, so she skipped over and opened the door. 

Azrael gaped in shock.  
  
There were books everywhere, stacked upon the floor in impressive towers, piled in chairs and upon tables... they were everywhere but in the shelves... save a few dozen, which seemed to have been recently placed there, neatly ordered by date. The oldest first. What in the..?   
  
As she made her way through the city of books, Azrael tripped on someone who was curled up on the floor, and fell forward, almost crashing into another mountain of tomes. That someone caught her by her shirt a moment before she hit them and whirling around, her jaw dropped open. What was Duma doing in Hell?  
  
Reading Lucifer’s books and cataloging them... apparently.  
  
The angel of silence smiled delightedly at her and gestured around at the collection.  
  
“Did you give Lu a vacation so you could have an excuse to finally read his books?” Azrael asked suspiciously.  
  
Duma shrugged, a bell hanging from a chain necklace around his neck tinkling merrily. Azrael wondered about that... but before she could ask, Duma turned to the books and started rummaging.  
  
“So... is Lu with his friends on Earth? Because I really need to ask him something.” Her librarian brother waved her off and kept rummaging, then lighting up, he snatched a book, flipped to a page and thrust it at her, finger indicating a passage. It was a book of poems.  
  
Azrael read it out loud.  
  
“You came to me like sunlight,  
With a burst my world was bright,  
I was embraced by warmth, given freely  
Turning careless apathy into glee.”  
  
Azrael looked at him, confused, but then another book, and another passage was thrust at her.  
  
“She ran back to her friend, throwing her arms around her in a fierce hug, because life was fleeting, and she didn’t want to waste even one precious moment not appreciating those who loved her for no other reason than that she was herself.” There was a moment of silence as the angel of death took in the passages. Then it hit her. “You think I should go see Ella?” She asked.  
  
Duma placed his hand on her shoulder and smiled encouragingly at her, then he brought his pointer and middle finger to his forehead and tapped twice. Ella was connected to one of his visions? Azrael dropped the book, which he caught, and cradled fondly. Her eyes grew wide.  
  
“O... Okay... I will. Thanks bro.” She stammered, then turning to leave, she waved behind her. “Smell ya’ later, Duma!” And she left to go see Ella, a little worried, a little excited, and totally confused.

_**Title Song:**_ [Everybody Knows](https://youtu.be/zrV5of2p-oc) originally by Leonard Cohen, cover by Sigrid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Title song is a hat tip to DC, because Lucifer is part of DC comics... yes, this is the song from Justice League. Link at end of chapter.
> 
> P.S. I still love writing Duma! ❤️📚
> 
> I promise the action and retribution is coming soon. Serious butt kicking is overdue!


	44. Another Day, Another Drama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ella reminisces, Chloe gets a text, Sandalphon wakes up, Maze attacks.

_Ella looked at Rae-Rae inquisitively. “So... the afterlife. Guess it’s real, huh?” She remarked as she licked her Popsicle. The blazing summer heat saturated the air mercilessly and she envied her ghostly companion for not having to feel it.  
  
“Obviously.” Rae-Rae laughed, leaning back against the wall, arms behind her head. “Why?”  
  
Ella smirked. “Just wondering. Sooo... Heaven and Hell are real too? And God? Angels and demons? Is the Devil real?” She popped the treat back into her mouth, toward the right cheek, turning her into a half chipmunk as she looked at her friend curiously.  
  
Rae-Rae was quiet... fidgeting. “Ella, you know I can’t talk about it. Ghost rules.” She looked away.  
  
Ella took the frozen dessert from her mouth and leaned forward, excited and gleeful. “Ha! That means yes!” She cheered. Rae-Rae frowned.  
  
“I never said...”  
  
“You always go on about ghost rules when you can’t confirm that I’m right.” Her grin widened. Rae-Rae sighed.   
  
“I’m not supposed to talk about...”  
  
“Have you ever met God? What about the Devil?” She interrogated, scooting closer.  
  
Rae-Rae shook her head and crossed her arms. “I can’t tell y...”  
  
“Please!” “No.” “Please with a cherry on top.” “Still no.” “Just one? Tell me about one!”  
  
The ghost laughed and grinned. “You’re impossible. If I tell you one thing, will you drop it?” Ella looked at her with big puppy eyes and she laughed. “Just one thing.”  
  
“Awesome! Yes!” Ella cheered, pumping first.  
  
Rae-Rae thought for a moment, then smirked. “The Devil gets a bad rap.” She decided on. Ella’s eyes popped out.  
  
“What!? Dude! No way! So, he’s actually, like, a nice guy?” She exclaimed.  
  
“I only agreed to one thing.” She turned away from her friend dramatically. Ella laughed.  
  
Sliding the popsicle back in, she fell silent, lost in thought, and the two sat in the shade of the college swimming pool’s outer wall for a while more, companionably quiet, then Ella looked at her again.  
  
“No.” Rea-Rea laughed.  
  
“What about angels? Are angels real? Like Michael, Gabriel, Azrael?” She blurted, bouncing in her spot.  
  
The ghost stilled a bit and shook her head. “I can’t...”  
  
“One angel! Please? Then I promise I’ll stop.” Ella pleaded. “Pinky promise!” she said, holding up her hand, pinky extended.  
  
Rae-Rae looked at her then sighed. “One angel, then we stop. Pinky promise.” She affirmed sternly.  
  
“I promise.”  
  
“So… which one do you want to hear about?”  
  
Ella thought for a minute. “How about Michael? Is he nice?”  
  
Rae-Rae sighed, seemingly disappointed. Then shaking her head, she smiled sadly at her friend. “I think... honestly... I think he’s sad. I think he cares a lot... and it makes him sad, so yes... in his own way, he’s nice.” She replied. Ella frowned for a moment, swallowing that information.  
  
Then she looked at her almost solemnly, wrapping her hand around the cross which hung from her neck. “Thank you.”_  
  
Ella remembered how that one conversation had kept her faith strong for years... until Charlotte. That was the only time she questioned her faith... she remembered getting drunk on margaritas and deciding that Rae-Rae was probably a hallucination... or a liar... or both. And that none of it was real. The incident at LUX, with the bomb, and _Lucifer _bleeding out just sealed the deal for her.  
  
Then, one day, she found herself wanting to believe again, to believe in her friend... and believe in herself. And now she knew she had been right. Either that, or she was completely psychotic and this whole thing was an extravagant delusion.

A whistle from the kettle pulled her from her thoughts. Sighing, she poured some hot water into a mug before adding a cocoa packet. Then she turned to find a spoon, taking a sip of her coffee as she went.

Lucifer snored obnoxiously from his room and Ella snorted. As she stirred the cocoa mix, Amenadiel wandered in looking like a zombie. He stood there staring blankly for a minute before he opened the fridge and stared some more. He had been like that ever since Linda and Charlie left after collecting Trix to head to the ‘desert estate’ Lucifer had been letting Ella use. That was fifteen minutes ago. 

Ella made a note to thank Lucifer again for letting her stay there. The place was practically a castle, and it made her feel like a princess... but it was lonely being there by herself, so she was looking forward to having roomies.

“Rough night, huh.” Ella remarked to the seemingly brain-dead angel as she grabbed the cup of coffee she had prepped for him and handed it over. Amenadiel took it and blinked. “Sorry, I don’t know how you like your coffee.”

Realizing what he was holding, Amenadiel snapped out of his daze briefly to offer a warm - if tired - smile. “Thank you. I’m sure it’s perfect.” He replied as Ella took her mug along with the one full of cocoa and left the kitchen. Chloe’s sat on the counter, waiting for her to get out of the shower.  
  
Michael was on the balcony again. He liked it there. It seemed to calm him. Maybe it was because he was used to high places, maybe it was because he missed his wings and that was the closest he could get to flying. She felt her heart aching. Rae-Rae was right. He _was _sad. He was looking at the city, so she couldn’t see his expression, but she imagine he was wearing that half smile he had sometimes when he was almost relaxed. 

Cup of hot cocoa in hand - because she already knew he disliked coffee - Ella started to make her way over, when Maze suddenly threw open the doors and thrusted her blade at him. Panicking, Ella started to picked up her pace, but then he brought his hand up, easily redirected her attack and disarmed her… without even turning to face her! Ella’s jaw dropped open. That was so cool! As she stepped onto the balcony, she heard them… laughing?  
  
“Are you… okay?” Ella asked, looking at them inquisitively as he handed the blade back to the demon and rolled his eyes.  
  
“I’m just keeping him on his toes.” Maze shrugged, putting her blade away.  
  
“Please, I could’ve countered that in my sleep.” The Defender of Heaven grumbled, turning back to look at the City. Ella started to grin.  
  
“So, what? You guys like each other, now?” Maze turned on her and glared with all the fury the demon could muster.  
  
“Don’t you _dare _say that!” She snapped, stepping toward Ella menacingly. Ella grinned impishly in reply.  
  
“Mazikeen doesn’t want anyone to know she doesn’t hate me. It’s a secret.” Michael replied, giggling as he turned to face her, offering a genuine smile. Ella may have swooned a bit at the sight before she came to her senses and held up the hot cocoa for him, which he accepted gratefully.

“Thank you, Miss Ella.”  
  
“Ugh, gross.” Maze grumbled, moving away. “And I _do _hate you.” She added, glaring at Michael. “I hate your stupid puppy dog act.”  
  
Michael looked affronted, huffing indignantly, and Maze smirked triumphantly.  
  
“It’s so _cute,_ I think I might barf.” She added. Michael looked insulted, and the demon laughed.

Ella’s eyes darted back and forth between the two delightedly. They were actually getting along! “You guys are _both _being cute!” She announced, and both groaned in reply.  
  
“Anyway,” Maze cut in, coughing conspicuously, “I just came to tell you I’m going out to finish what I started with Sandalphon.”  
  
Michael’s expression turned grim. “By yourself?”  
  
“Everyone here is acting like a bunch of idiots, waiting for _them_ to come to _us, _which is stupid. Better to strike first, I say.” The two looked at one another, as Ella felt herself growing uncomfortable.

She heard Chloe emerging from the shower. A pigeon flew by...  
  
Finally, Michael nodded, “Be careful, Mazikeen of the Lilim.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” The demon retorted as she left. 

Ella stood frozen in place. It almost felt like Maze had wanted his approval… which was weird, right? Ella shrugged it off and put her arm around the angel, leaning in. “So… I guess I don’t have to worry about stopping you two from fighting anymore?” She asked beaming up at him. He turned to look at her, an affectionate smile gracing his face.  
  
“I don’t think I ever thanked you for that.” He replied softly. He looked at her shyly, and Ella’s heart skittered happily. He was so…  
  
“I got a text from Dan!” Chloe exclaimed, suddenly rushing through the still open balcony door, hair wrapped in a towel and wearing Lucifer’s bathrobe... and completely ruining their moment. “He asked me to meet him!”

***

Sandalphon couldn’t seem to stay focused on listening. He was searching for the dissonance he had felt before. It was strange to find a rip in reality here on Earth. As far as he knew, the flaming swords were the only things that could make them, and one had been dismantled while the other was with Zerachiel… neither had been used on Earth… let alone here in LA… unless Lucifer had somehow gotten _his _blade back.  
  
Yawning, he tried to focus again, but it wasn’t easy. It had been a long morning. He had woken up in an abandoned shack, still wearing a hospital gown and aching all over. At first, he was discombobulated by the situation, until he remembered his latest fight with Mazikeen. He had no clue how long he had been out, and without his phone, he had no idea if Zerachiel had sent him any new instructions. He almost prayed to ask for an update, but then he hesitated.

Father was captured. Which meant there was no longer any reason for him to maintain radio silence with Lucifer, and perhaps, if he approached him, he could get Mazikeen to stop getting in his way. But if he was going to approach the Lightbringer, he wanted to have something to offer. Handing over Mîchael would have been ideal, but he was having no luck with that. There were still a great many more fallen warriors beyond creation, though. 

Perhaps it was time to get a few more, and this time, he could present them to Lucifer directly. Screw Zerachiel.

Zerachiel didn’t care about liberating the Silver City, he wanted to rule it. His brother feared that without guidance, it would be chaos. He wasn’t wrong. But Sandalphon didn’t see a problem with that. Chaos was the truth of things. Father and Mother tried to instill order, but when left alone too long, everything always returned to entropy. 

Leaving creation to find the fallen had taught him that.

It had changed him. He knew it. And though he welcomed it, a part of him missed who he was before. And that part of him hated the Prince of Heaven for taking that away from him. Mîchael had turned him into an agent of chaos, so he deserved to suffer at the hands of chaos. And, ironically, Zerachiel had been the one to accomplish that. Zerachiel, who still tried to pretend he wasn’t insane.

It had been a slow decent into madness for his brother, but when that little girl died - _Zara, _her name had been Zara - the proverbial camel’s back snapped in half. Sandalphon was delighted at first, but then he realized that his brother was still trying to deny who and what he was. He thought that he was “good.” He didn’t understand that chaos _was_ good. 

But Lucifer... the Lightbringer knew the way of things. Lucifer - the conqueror and ruler of Hell - he knew... and he still fought for Freedom. 

He knew how important it was to let people decide their own destinies. He was always finding ways to defy Father; always helping people realize what they truly desired so they could finally find happiness.

He was always coming back to Earth...

Huh... Lucifer used to live in LA… perhaps he was back. It would explain the demon’s interferences. Sandalphon decided he would pay a visit to LUX after he had a chance to fetch warriors for him. 

Armed with a plan, he flew to the nearest Men’s Warehouse, broke in, grabbed an acceptable suit, and flew off again, leaving the alarm to scream. Then he headed to the pier he had been on the first time he heard the dissonance of torn reality. But as he tried to focus on the strings humming to the symphony of creation over the cacophony of human activity, he caught the scent of something familiar.  
  
Hell Fire. 

He grinned as he recognized the scent of Lucifer’s demon Mazikeen. Back for another round, it seemed.   
  
Leaving the Pier and heading to a more open place on the beach, he watched for her. He would love nothing more than to fight her again in earnest. He did love a good rumble, after all, but now was not the time. There were too many humans around, and besides, he still wasn’t sure they were actually enemies. Demons were agents of chaos, too. But as he started to jog, she dropped down on him from the pier, crashing into him from above. Again.  
  
He brought up his arms just in time to prevent her from slicing into his head, and he received a nasty cut across his forearm. He cursed the fact that there were so many witnesses. He couldn’t unfurl his wings in defense.  
  
“Miss me?” She sneered, bringing her blade up as he tossed her off.  
  
“Would you believe me if I said I did?” He smirked back. “But sadly, now is not the time for this. Rain check?” He taunted. The demon snarled at him and charged. He jumped back, barley avoiding being sliced into and started to run.  
  
“Coward!” His opponent roared, clearly frustrated that his legs were so much longer than hers.

“We’re not enemies, Mazikeen, you should stop interfering!” He retorted as he dashed around a corner, looking for a way to give her the slip when suddenly, he heard it. The same familiar dissonance. The strings holding reality together had been severed nearby! Excellent. 

“Bullshit! You attack my friends, you die!” He heard the demon retort.  
  
Her comment confused him for a moment before he pushed it aside. He turned to the sound which only he could hear, and sure enough, there it was. Humming along to the song of creation, the crack started to shimmer, and just as the demon was turning the corner in pursuit, he slipped in, disappearing into oblivion.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let’s talk science!  
String theory states that reality is held together by, and made up of one dimensional vibrating strings. All the properties of reality are determined by how the strings vibrate. Like a symphony of reality. Reality is music!
> 
> In my mind, the angel of music would have the ability to hear this symphony... and the dissonance caused by a tear... like the one Lucifer made when he opened up a portal into another reality for ‘Mum.’ It’s through these rips that he can leave creation and go ‘Beyond.’
> 
> Step one: science!  
Step two: fantasy!  
Result: Awesome sauce!


	45. Horseshoes and Hand Grenades

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amenadiel wants to help, Chloe doesn’t trust the text, and Gabriel is a terrible firefighter

Amenadiel looked at the picture in his wallet. It was from Charlie’s first birthday. He was sitting in his highchair, white frosting all over his chubby cheeks, and flashing the cutest little dimples Amenadiel had ever seen.   
  
He was still in awe over how Charlie made their lives so much..._ more._ More exhausting, more complicated, more of a mess… More complete. More meaningful.

Before his son, Amenadiel devoted his life to serving Father. It was his purpose. He remembered feeling lost every time he didn’t know what Father wanted of him. This happened far more often than he admitted, and honestly, he started losing his way long before he ended up stranded on Earth.  
  
He remembered how all he could think about when he first lost his wings was returning to the Silver City, because he hated not knowing what his life was meant to be. And he remembered feeling strangely lost when he finally returned. So he came back to Earth again. Because he felt like his time on Earth meant something.  
  
But he hadn’t known what to do with himself. Until Linda came to him.  
  
_“I’m pregnant.”_  
  
He should’ve been confused, it was supposed to be impossible. But all he had felt in that moment was _Love._ With a capitol L. He had wanted this… without even realizing it. He had been looking for a higher purpose. And serving Father wasn’t enough.  
  
Amenadiel took a sip of the coffee Ella had given him. It was a tad sweet, but otherwise, quite nice. He glanced toward the balcony as he made his way aimlessly back to the seat he had been occupying by the bar ever since Lucifer had woken him up around 3:30 that morning. Mîchael was on the balcony with Ella and Maze.   
  
_“You remember when Mī gave you a spark of his light?”_ Lucifer’s words rang in his ears. He remembered. He couldn’t stop thinking about it.  
  
_“Okay, okay, if you all insist.” Mîchael giggled leaning back into the grass he had sprouted for them so they would have something soft to lounge on. “I suppose I can do that.” He held up his hand and looked at it like he had never really noticed it before, then it started to glow softly. “One spark. One life.” He decreed in a veeeery serious tone.  
  
“Really?” Amenadiel reached forward, but then Mîchael withdrew his hand.  
  
“But!” he looked at them almost impishly. “There’s a condition!”  
  
“Awe, that’s not fair!” Raguel drawled from where she lay at his side. “You makin’ us earn it?”  
  
“No.” His brother shook his head. “Just… you know, security. This gift can only be used if you…” He trailed off, trying to find the right words. Then, after a moment of spacing out, he grinned. “Only if you and whoever you join with... truly desire it.” Then he patted his chest with his other hand. “Deep down in here.”_  
  
Had someone suggested to Amenadiel a month ago that he would owe his happiness to Mîchael, he would’ve laughed. But it was true. He looked at the picture again as Mazikeen brushed passed him, a wicked gleam in her eye.   
  
“I’m out. Tell Lucifer I’m going hunting.” She informed without stopping.  
  
“Huh?” But the demon was already in the elevator, toying with her blades almost giddily.  
  
Amenadiel sighed, feeling the pounding in his head come back. He rubbed his temple and took another sip of the sweet coffee as the present situation came crashing in on him again._ “Zerachiel wants to create new angels.” _Lucifer had been so devastated. His hair a disheveled mess, his eyeliner smudged, his shirt half tucked in, and his sleeves rolled sloppily up to his elbows. And he had been drinking all night, forgetting about Chloe’s presence.  
  
He never forgot about Chloe!  
  
Amenadiel had been reeling all morning too, caught between wonder and heart-break. He knew Mîchael could create a new generation… and he knew how it worked. But now, Zerachiel had used him... No… ‘Used’ was the wrong word. ‘Violated’ was probably more accurate.   
  
Chloe was suddenly at his side, hair in a towel and wearing Luci’s bathrobe. She was sipping at the coffee Ella had left for her. Amenadiel was pulled from his thoughts as she eyed him uncertainly before turning away to grab her phone. Amenadiel cringed. She had been distant with him ever since she learned about Malcolm. Her trust was broken, and he wasn’t sure how to repair the damage.  
  
Speaking of damage… He glanced toward the balcony again. Chloe was rushing out to meet the two still out there, showing Ella her phone. They exchanged words, then Chloe was leading Ella in and heading toward the library to talk. Mîchael was closing in on himself, apparently distressed about something. Without even thinking, Amenadiel was out of his seat and joining him on the balcony.  
  
Noticing his approach, Mîchael straightened up, taking a deep breath. He was trying to put his ‘I’m okay’ mask back on.  
  
“I… uh… can we talk?” Amenadiel floundered. It was always going to be difficult starting conversations with him. He was never certain what to expect. Was he going to be a commander, a stubborn younger brother, or just… broken?   
  
Mîchael stared at him. “Are you unwell?” His brother asked, tilting his head.  
  
Amenadiel blinked. “What?” Then he realized he was probably referring to the circles he most likely had under his eyes. “Oh, I… didn’t sleep much last night.” Amenadiel admitted.  
  
“Oh...” Mîchael sipped at his chocolate and offered an apologetic smile. “What is it you wanted to discuss?” Amenadiel looked at him for a moment, trying to read him, but his mask was back in place, and he was unreadable again.   
  
Taking a deep breath, he braced himself. “Lucifer reminded me of something this morning.” He said, fidgeting. “About how you gave me the ability to create life… just once? A long time ago?”  
  
His brother stilled. Nervous. The first born tried to find the words to express his gratitude… his sympathy, and his desire to help. But none came, so he threw his arms around his brother and pulled him in for an embrace instead. Mîchael stiffened, and Amenadiel almost let go as he remembered how badly he had taken to unexpected contact before, but then the tension eased a bit and he felt his brother’s arms returning the hug with a feather light touch.   
  
That small gesture was all it took for the damn to burst, and tears welled up in his eyes. “Thank you!” Amenadiel bawled. Mîchael pulled away to stare at him as he tried to smile shakily in reply. 

“Sorry… I…uh...” Amenadiel let go and stood back again, and his brother relaxed. “Thank you.” He blurted again.  
  
An awkward silence set in, but then, upon realizing something, Amenadiel started to laugh. “When this whole mess is over, I think I may need to have a chat with Raguel and Remi…” Then he suddenly grew cold. “Oh, Remi!” Now that he knew what the enemy was willing to do, a quiet dread started to settle over his heart. He never should have let her go on her own!  
  
Mîchael tilted his head in confusion. “Is something wrong with Remiel?”  
  
“She left to spy on... _them..._ by herself…” He rambled. Michael’s eyes grew wide, amplifying his own misgivings. “I fear she may be in peril. I need to find her.”  
  
His brother’s expression shifted then, the fear turning into something hard. “You will not be able to track her down on your own. You need help.”  
  
“From who?” Amenadiel asked, trying to think of anyone besides Remi who knew how to search for things that were hidden. He couldn’t think of any other angels with that skillset, though.  
  
“I would say Mazikeen, but she’s already gone.” He furrowed his brow, concentrating. Amenadiel startled. Had Mîchael just proposed that Amenadiel ask a _demon_ for help? He never thought he would see the day... but... it was a good idea.  
  
“I… you’re right. Thank you, brother. I know what to do.” He decided as he unfurled his wings. But before he left, a new concern took hold. How was he going to protect his friends and family if he left? Normally, he would tell them to pray, but… Raziel.  
  
Raziel would interfere… except... Lucifer’s prayer had gotten through when he had first learned about the Hell Loop, so she wasn’t blocking everything, was she? With that revelation, he had an idea. “Tell the others to pray if they need me.”  
  
Mîchael raised an eyebrow. “That’s not…”  
  
“Just one word, though.” His brother nodded, seeming to catch on. “Malcolm.” He blurted out, looking toward Chloe as she sat at the couch, looking at him. He hoped she would understand the significance of the word. How he was sorry, how he wanted to make it up to her, how she could ask absolutely anything of him.

“I’ll tell them.” Mîchael promised.  
  
“Thank you.” Amenadiel said. Then he spread his wings and left to go pay Duma a visit.

***

“Really?” Ella exclaimed, leaning in. Michael stepped back, drawing in on himself as Ella read the text. Chloe felt her heart ache in response. She peered over Ella’s shoulders and reread the message to distract herself.  
  
_“Hey, Chlo, sorry I didn’t answer you sooner. I’ve been out of range, and my phone is almost out of juice. I found what I was looking for and I’m flying back tonight, but I need your help. Can you meet me at 9:30 in the morning on the beach where I first asked you out? I’m sending the address in case you need it.” _  
  
“Wow, that’s great!” Ella elated, and Chloe nodded, glancing momentary at Michael to offer an encouraging smile. His fists were clenching and he was breathing deeply. The last thing the detective wanted to do was further trigger a victim by discussing the wrong thing in front of him. And what she had to say next was definitely one of those things. Placing her hand on her friend’s shoulder, she ushered her back into the penthouse toward Lucifer’s library so she could talk freely without upsetting him. Ella looked back at Michael, clearly concerned for him, but she relaxed when she saw Amenadiel going to him.   
  
“Sorry, I… he just... he’s not ready for certain things yet, so I figured its best we talk in here.” She explained. Ella looked at her in confusion. “Something’s wrong. The text was super vague. And... Dan asked me out at the precinct.”  
  
Ella read it again. Nodding. “Right. So... You gonna wake Lucifer up so you guys can pound on the bad guys?” She guessed. Chloe heaved a sigh. She didn’t want to bring Lucifer along. He was vulnerable around her, and these perps weren’t their run-of-the-mill thugs. They were archangels. Chloe could still remember the predatory look Zerachiel had directed at Michael. She knew what that expression meant, and there was no way she was letting that creep anywhere near Lucifer’s twin, but without Michael as backup, Lucifer was in too much danger. Especially since the way their so-called brother looked at her partner wasn’t really any better.

And now she was pretty sure they had Dan.  
  
“No.” Chloe admitted sheepishly. “He needs to stay with Michael, and Michael needs to be kept away from our perps.” Then she sighed. “I was hoping you could tell him for me.” She confessed.  
  
Ella grinned. “Sure, I’ll tell him. In a text, while we’re on our way.” Chloe recoiled at the thought of bringing Ella, but she was already out of the library, and grabbing their things.  
  
“Aren’t you worried about the danger?” Chloe asked when she came back, tossing her clothes at her  
  
“Nah, we can always ask Amenadiel if we need backup.” 

Chloe slipped into her pants and shirt, but her shoes were still by the couch. She considered Ella’s suggestion as she went to get them, but then, as she put them on, she heard the familiar whooshing sound of unfurling wings coming from the balcony. Turning toward the sound, her eyes locked with Amenadiel’s for a moment, then he left. She hoped he had cell signal wherever he was going.

Finished with her shoes, she went to give Lucifer a goodbye kiss. He was still out for the count, and she took a moment to drink in the sight of him, admiring his partially exposed chest and the way his hair was starting to curl. Her poor Devil had had a rough night. Leaning down, she kissed him lightly and he murmured something unintelligible as he tried to pull her in. At first, she thought she woke him, but the snore that followed said otherwise. As she pulled back, he tried to hold on, whimpered faintly before turning on his side, snuggling in under the blanket.

It was adorable, and she shook her head at how ridiculously in over her head she was.

Which was why she had to go without him. She couldn’t bear to lose him. She couldn’t bear the thought of him suffering the way Michael had.  
  
Coming out of Lucifer’s room, she spotted Ella by the elevator, smiling triumphantly.  
  
“What’s with the goofy grin?” Chloe asked as the elevator doors opened and they stepped in.  
  
“Oh, nothing.” Ella hummed, cheeks flushing a little. “Just a little goodbye kiss.”

***

Gabriel stared in bewilderment at the destruction in front of him. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This was the Silver City! But sure enough, flames were licking up the walls of the library on the far side of the building, and he just knew that the precious knowledge within was being utterly consumed by flames.

Raphael came up beside him and gestured as if to say, ‘see? Emergency!’ and Gabriel rolled his eyes. He really didn’t need this. But whatever. Best thing to do would be to try to take care of the disaster as quickly as possible. But how? A gust from Raphael’s beating wings gave him an idea.

Swooping in low, he brought his wings down in a mighty thrust, sending gales of wind at the inferno below, and for a brief moment, he thought it would work, as the flames ebbed significantly, but then they surged to life with newfound vitality, climbing higher than before!

“Well that didn’t work.” Gabriel muttered.

Raphael landed by the library and rushed in to try and save as many books as he could. He wasn’t the only one. Several others were doing the same. Gabriel landed and thought for a minute. What did humans do with fires? He remembered seeing men hauling around long hoses which would spew water... oh... right. Putting his hands together, he prayed to Sachael.

Then, while waiting, he approached Jophiel, who was in middle of hauling out an armload of books, and caught her by her pretty arm. “How did this happen?” He demanded.

Jophiel paused. “I don’t really know. I was reading about the creation of the Garden of Eden when it started. I was told it had something to do with the crystal sculptures being moved so they refracted the light…”

“No, it was because someone forgot to return the chlorine trifluoride to the periodic table after they were done analyzing it.” Ariel argued coming up behind her friend.

Then Muriel cut in, carrying her own bundle of tomes. “No, it was the candles and the...”

Gabriel had heard enough. “Uriel…” He growled lowly.

“What?” His sisters asked, flummoxed. 

“Nothing, I need to know which section of the library the fire started in.” He declared.

“You mean the explosion? I hadn’t even gotten to the fireworks!” Ariel.

“I heard it was hand grenades from the war exhibit!” Jophiel

“Whatever.” He shook his head, clearly perturbed. This was the Silver City, not one of those incidents would’ve been enough... but with the perfect storm of ‘coincidences’ the girls were describing... this had Uriel’s signature all over it. Even so, it never would’ve happened if Duma wasn’t missing. Their dead brother was probably involved in that, as well.

Which meant that this had been planned quite a while ago. Back when he was still alive...

It was in that moment that Sachael landed at his side. She took one look at the library and shook her head. “What a tragedy.” Then, without waiting for Gabriel to explain, she concentrated on binding hydrogen and oxygen together, forming a massive ball of water over the library. “The books will be waterlogged…” She warned.

“I know.” Gabriel affirmed, and with that, she beset the library with water. Angels fluttered out with startled exclamations, and it occurred to him that maybe he ought to have warned them… but seeing Raguel soaking wet and glaring at him was well worth it. Snickering, he walked into the now steaming building. 

“What were you destroying, Uriel?” He found himself wondering. 

He made his way through the central reading room, where cushions and reading nooks were normally spread artfully about. The room was a dripping soggy chaotic mess now. How unbefitting. He made his way into the nonfiction section, where the damage seemed to be greater, and followed the path of destruction to the wing devoted to archiving what he jokingly referred to as the Silver City’s census reports. Books identifying and describing each of the angels, their accomplishments, their gifts and how they worked, their tasks and histories…

Gabriel huffed in frustration as he stared at the ruins of the archive. This was connected to Mîchael’s absence, he could feel it, but he couldn’t quite figure out how... He was close... but like horseshoes and hand grenades, close wasn’t good enough. Especially when Mī could be in danger.

Huh... knowing Uriel, horseshoes and hand grenades were among the causes of the fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sing it with me! 🎼
> 
> (to the tune of Batman’s in the kitchen)
> 
> Maze is hunting Sandi!  
Menny went to Hell!  
Chloe’s after bad guys!  
And Ella is as well!  
👏
> 
> Luci has been drinking!  
Gabe just needs a clue!  
Dan’s a double agent!  
And God is plotting too!  
👏
> 
> 😅
> 
> Special thanks to Imperium for inspiring the last part of this chapter. ❤️


	46. Separation Anxiety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael wakes Lucifer. An old ‘friend’ of Lucifer’s makes a surprise appearance.

It had been a strange morning. When he first woke, tired from a restless night, everyone was acting like they were ready to fortify and wait out a siege... but then, one by one, they all left.

Absentmindedly, he brought his hand to his cheek as he remembered Miss Ella coming to say goodbye.

_“Chloe and I are heading out for a bit. We’ll be right back.” She announced. “Where’s Amenadiel?”_

_“Gone to help Remiel. He said if you need him, pray to him saying, ‘Malcolm’ but...”_

_“Awesome! Thanks! That’s super helpful!” _

_Then she threw her arms around him, and as nice as it was, he felt a concern start to form. But before he could pursue the thought, she did something quite unexpected. She kissed him. A sweet soft peck on the cheek..._

_“Bye!” She beamed before skipping off._

It had left him stupefied, and part of him wondered if she had done that on purpose, while another part wondered why it had affected him at all.  
  
The sun was already climbing higher in the sky. And as he found himself alone, misgivings settled over him. He didn’t like the feeling. That was when he noticed Samael looking strangely ill.  
  
So he decided to fixed it.  


Samael woke up with a grunt as the strange illness was drawn from his body. Still disoriented, he sat up to blink blurry eyed and confused. “W... what?”   
  
“Is that better?”  
  
His twin blinked owlishly in confusion for a brief moment before understanding set in, and Samael’s expression shifted first toward annoyance, then mirth.  
  
“You… healed me?”

He nodded. “Yes. You were sick. What happened?” He was concerned that somehow_ he _might have caused it.

Sammy shook his head, chuckling. “And after all the alcohol I went through to accomplish this.” That comment was confusing. But then he noticed his twin looking at him almost disbelievingly. “Does that mean you got your wings back?”  
  
The reminder of his missing wings stung, but he pushed the feeling aside. “No.” He replied softly. “I don’t need wings to heal others.” Sam seemed to crumble at his words.

“Oh...” 

He grew quiet, not sure what to say next. “Did… were you hurt?” He asked his brother after a pause.  
  
Samael seemed perplexed at first, but then he smirked. “No. I was drunk, Mī.” His twin explained shaking his head.  
  
“What? How?” That made no sense. Human intoxicants were hardly effective on celestials…  
  
“The Detective makes me vulnerable.” Sam reminded. Oh, he had forgotten about that. He looked away, feeling ashamed. If his twin’s Manifestation of Will turned love into weakness… he was under no illusions as to why that was.  
  
Eager for a subject change, he remembered the beverage he had made for him, and he quickly offered it. His brother accepted it, took a sip and pulled back in alarm.

“Is this... cocoa?”

“I don’t know how to make that revolting bitter stuff the rest of you like.” He confessed apologetically. Sammy laughed and reached for the bottle of alcohol sitting next to the bed, before stopping himself.

“Maybe I ought to hold off on this, seeing as the Detective makes...” Then he trailed off, suddenly realizing how quiet it was, and his eyes grew wide. “Bloody Hell, where did everyone go?” He blurted.

“They’re walking into a trap.” He answered. Sammy gaped at him. 

“What!?”

“I mean... Miss Ella and Detective Chloe are...”

“You’re certain of this?” His twin asked. He nodded in reply, even as he felt his chest constrict. They were going to... to _them. _Why else would they have taken their conversation somewhere else? He felt a cold rage toward his own weakness. They never would’ve excluded him if he hadn’t been so pathetic. And now... _he_ was going to take them, and use them to hurt Sam. 

His brother’s expression shifted through a range of emotions as he did his best to explain everything before settling on what looked like resolve.

“I’m sorry I didn’t stop them... I... it all happened at once, I should’ve caught on quicker... I...”

Samael put his hand on his shoulder and smiled reassuringly. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” His brother sighed, before standing to take in his disheveled state in the looking glass. Huffing, he grabbed his phone and headed toward the washroom. “Give me a moment to collect myself.” He said as he left. 

Suddenly alone again, his mind instantly wandered back to the night before. He could still remember the look in the enemy’s eyes when he saw Sammy and him join their gifts... he may not have his wings, he may not be able to see people’s light or read their emotions in it... but he could still recognize some things. Possessiveness. Greed. Jealousy. Rage. 

Their brother wanted Samael out of the way, and Detective Chloe made that possible. With that thought, he found it hard to breath... he couldn’t stop thinking about what they might do to his twin... what they _would _do to Miss Ella and Detective Chloe, and what they had likely already done to Daniel... A familiar pain started to grow in his chest and his hands started to tremble. Flustered, he pulled Miss Alien close.

He focused on the softness and shape of the toy.  
  
Breathe...

Breathe...

Sammy was back, dressed and composed. He must’ve lost track of himself again. His twin was looking at him... with concern.

“Mī. What aren’t you saying?” He questioned.

He wanted to reassure him... but he had no words of comfort... nothing that felt truthful. “We need to get them back...” He choked, feeling frustrated with himself when the sting of tears blurred his vision. There was so much he needed to say... yet the words weren’t forming. He felt trapped by his own inability. It made him sick.

Sam sighed. Then he offered a sad smile which didn't reach his eyes as he reached over to brush a curl aside. “Come here.” He held his arms open for him and he stepped closer, leaning in and holding on with Miss Alien between them as his brother unfurled his wings and wrapped his arms around him.

Then he felt the familiar sensation of flight as they slipped through the fabric of reality; Samael’s strong arms holding him close. They landed in a strange room. Dr. Linda, Charlie, and Miss Trixie were there - a chicken too... for some odd reason. Stepping back, he looked at his twin suspiciously. Where were they? Why were they here?

Then Samael was talking to Dr. Linda. “Take care of him until I get back. Keep him hidden.”

“I will.” Dr. Linda promised. Charlie wiggled in his mother’s hold, trying to reach for him.

“What?” His voice cracked as he felt a surge of panic.

“You’re staying here, Mī.” His brother replied firmly.

“No!” He exclaimed, grabbing his twin’s hand. He needed to go with him! He needed to keep him_ safe!_

“I won’t put you in harm's way. I won’t take you back to that maggot.” He explained, voice edging with fury at the end.

“But you _need _me!” He knew he sounded desperate. He didn’t care. Sammy needed to understand.

“I need you safe.” He countered.

No. 

This wasn’t happening. He shook his head, trying to drive the feeling of helplessness away.

“I’m safe with _you.” _He insisted, dropping Miss Alien to take Sam’s hand with both of his. He looked at him imploringly, willing himself not to reach down to grab the toy he just dropped. Grabbing Miss Alien would make him look weak, he needed to convince his twin that he wasn’t _weak. _

“Not where I’m going. Not if you have to face Zerachiel.” Samael countered. He flinched at the name. He could hear Dr. Linda setting her son in the crib and walking up to him. Glancing back, he saw her looking at him with the same concern.

“I can do this.” He almost pleaded.

Samael looked tired, eons older than he had a moment before. “Prove it.” He almost looked hopeful as he spoke. “Say his name. Tell me what they did.” He challenged.

That wasn’t fair. Just because he couldn’t talk about it didn’t mean he couldn’t fight! He escaped on his own, found his way to the City of Angels... found help... he needed to keep Samael safe! But he was trembling and his words stuck. 

He hated that he had tears filling his eyes. He hated how hard it was to breathe. He hated that his chest hurt.

His brother deflated.

“He’ll be safe, we’re well hidden, and no one knows to look here.” Dr. Linda reassured, as she knelt to pick up Miss Alien. Then she held out her hand to him as an invitation.

“Thank you.” His brother said with a slight nod as he pulled back, extracting his hand, and with a downward thrust of his wings, he was gone. 

He didn’t even say goodbye.

He did that on purpose, of course. His twin knew he wasn’t going to let him go, so he left before he could grab onto him again. And now he was gone.

He stood there trembling, feeling heartbroken and angry and afraid as tears slipped silently from his eyes.

He was supposed to be The Defender.

How was he to defend anyone as he was now? 

After a moment, he turned to face the two humans who were watching him. Dr. Linda placed Miss Alien in his hand and he hated how much better he felt the moment he had her. He pulled her close to his heart and closed his eyes. He had to focus. He had to think. He had to find a way to help.

“Come on, let me show you your room.” The doctor suggested, hand still outstretched. Silently he took it and let her lead him up a flight of stairs into a corner room with a nice view of the desert beyond. He sank onto the bed and stared out the window, saying nothing as his mind struggled to grasp the situation. Dr. Linda smiled understandingly at him before leaving him to process. But he didn’t have much time for that because Miss Trixie wandered in immediately after. She hopped up onto the bed and smiled brightly at him.

“Hey, My-My.” She chirped. He sighed. He wished she wouldn’t call him that. He must’ve made that face she found so funny, because she laughed. “The grownups don’t ever take me along, either. But that’s cause I’m a kid...” He looked at her. Where was she going with this?

“You worry about them.” He offered, waiting for her to explain her intentions. Detective Chloe’s child was crafty.

“Lucifer will keep Mom and Dad safe, but who will protect him? Lucifer tries to do everything himself. He thinks he doesn’t need help. He thinks he doesn’t deserve it. We know better, though.” She chatted as she pulled out her phone and unlocked it with a smooth motion of her finger over the screen. He watched her as she opened her contacts, found what she was looking for, and handed it to him.

He took it, and saw the number for “Maze.” Understanding set in. The demon cared. She understood. She would help. Quickly, he pulled out his own phone and copied the contact down before giving the phone back to the young human.

“Thank you, Miss Trixie.” He said earnestly. 

“No prob. But... don’t tell them you got the number from me.” She instructed as she walked out, waving behind her.

He was already texting Mazikeen of the Lilim before the door closed.

😈🕵️🌈👩🔜☠️❗️. ⚔️🚷🥺. 🛑☠️⁉️. 🥺🥺🥺!!!

He took a moment to look it over. Yes, he was pretty sure he included everything. Taking a breath, he hit send. Then he waited. He waited and hoped for a demon to answer his call.

***

Lucifer landed in Washington and pulled out his phone to look at the spot marked on the map he had saved the day he and the Detective were trying to track down Daniel. There was a small “park” by the river, close to where the bad guys’ super-secret fortress of doom most likely was, by the south fork of the Nooksack River, just off of Valley Highway. Which was great to know, but useless if he didn’t know where _he_ was. He needed directions.

Looking around, he realized he was in a rural residential area, and just down the road, he spotted a moving van. Brilliant. They could help him. Not bothering to think about the consequences, he flew over and landed on the driveway right next to a group of men hauling a couch.

Upon seeing the winged being suddenly blocking their path, the men let out panicked yelps, dropping the couch and backing up in terror. Odd. Usually people responded more favorably to angel wings. Looking closer, he realized these men were vaguely familiar... yes, he was fairly certain he had beaten them up once or twice.

Just then, he heard a familiar voice behind him, coming from the house. “Hey, what’s the_ hooooo _man!” The voice started with a commanding clip and tapered off to cowardly.

“Mr. Said Out Bitch!” Lucifer practically sang, turning around to face the human who was staring at him with bugged out eyes. He smiled delightedly for a moment before a concern crossed his mind. “You’re not robbing this place, are you? I’m certain I gave you _more _than enough to settle your debts.” He scolded.

Mr. Said Out Bitch squeaked in reply, momentarily tongue tied. “No, man, we’re good. I’m moving in, my boys are just...” Lucifer heard the sound of feet fleeing the area and turning back, he saw the goons climbing into the U-Haul and starting up the engine.

“Then why are they running away?” He challenged, eyes flashing and wings fanning as he advanced on the trembling man. 

Mr. Said Out Bitch backed up till his back hit the wall of the house. “I dunno, maybe because you beat the shit out of em?” He bleated. “Please don’t hurt me, man. I’m clean, I swear!” 

Lucifer heard the vehicle retreating. “Hmmm.” He replied, glancing back. The driver’s wild eyes locked onto him and he sped up, tires squealing and tossing gravel as he did. “They’re driving off with all your stuff. Want me to get them back?”

The former thief startled. “Nah, nah, let em go, man. They’re still broken up over last time.” Lucifer scrutinized him for a moment, then sighed.

He felt a bit sheepish. “I suppose I was a _bit _harsh with them.” He relented, then holding up his phone, he rested his arm on the human’s shoulders. The man went white as a sheet - which was quite remarkable considering his dark complexion. “I need you to take me here.” He showed the trembling mortal the map on his phone.

“What!?” He whimpered.

“Oh, don’t act so surprised, you left me trouser-less last time, giving me a lift is the _least _you can do.”

“Can’t you... j... just... fly there?” It sounded almost like he was begging as he pointed at Lucifer’s still unfurled wings.

Lucifer huffed and tucked them away. Bloody annoying appendages. Mr. Said Out Bitch jumped a bit in response. “I don’t know my way around.” He retorted, pulling the man closer and leading him toward the truck parked in front of the garage. “I assume that you do.” He opened the door and urged the man into the driver’s seat before circling around to the passenger side.

The human gaped at him. “I don’t have the keys with me...” The vehicle hummed to life at Lucifer’s behest.

“One of the perks of being me.” He purred. “I can turn _anything _on.”

The overwhelmed dullard gawked for a moment more before buckling up and muttering something about moving out there to get away from all the “angel-devil bullshit in LA,” then putting the truck in reverse, he started out.

“Where did you need to go again?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Mi. 🥺🥺🥺  
But thank goodness for Trix and Maze. 😁
> 
> Yes. Luci is going to 👿🔥🔥🔥☄️💥 very soon.
> 
> In case you forgot:  
Lee, or as Luci calls him, ‘Mr. Said Out Bitch’ has been in the opening episode of every season starting with season 2. I _had_ to include him. 🤣🤣🤣


	47. The Hunters and the Hunted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amenadiel visits Hell. The girls try to save Dan. Cliffhanger.😈

Amenadiel landed in Hell with ash swirling around him. The throne was empty, but he wasn’t surprised by this. Knowing Duma, he was probably holding court in the library. The library that, until now, he had had no access to. Without delay, he made his way there, catching the attention of several demons, and as he flew over them, he could hear them shouting for an explanation. They wanted to know what Heaven had done to their king. 

Figured.  
  
As he made his way through Lucifer’s fortress, he noticed a line had formed. Interesting. But then again, standing in line _could _be considered Hellish, so... Shrugging, he brushed passed the demons, ignoring their startled exclamations, and pushing the doors open, he marched in.  
  
He found Duma, as expected, sitting on a fancy pink and gold chair - it looked old... and French. He had a book in his lap, and a veritable pyramid of them stacked behind him. Several more looked recently tended to and neatly placed on the shelves. More interestingly, there was a group of agitated demons gathered around him. Astaroth was at his side, looking almost like a queen next to her king.  
  
“Are you the King of Hell now?” A demon was asking. Duma held up a bell, which was hanging from a chain around his neck, and glancing at Astaroth with an eye roll, he rang it twice.  
  
“Does that mean Lucifer’s coming back?” Another demon demanded. Three rings.  
  
“You don’t know?” A third snarled. 

One ring.  
  
Amenadiel couldn’t help but laugh at this. Was this Astaroth’s idea? He was surprised Duma was going along with it. A ringing bell was hardly silent. But as he chuckled, all the demons turned to face him, and… well, he never thought he would live to see the day when so many demons would actually look _glad_ to see him.  
  
“This one speaks! Maybe now we can finally get some answers!” One blurted excitedly.  
  
“You will not disrespect to the Steward of Hell.” Astaroth growled from where she stood, and the demon looked at her, affronted.  
  
“Why do _you_ care if I disrespected him?”  
  
“I need you all out. I must speak with Duma alone.” Amenadiel barked, and the demons all glared at him, apparently displeased with his announcement. He noticed one about to argue, so he spread his wings and barked again, more forcefully this time. “OUT!” That was all it took. They all made their way out, grumbling and reluctant… all except for Astaroth, of course.  
  
“Inanna, you may stay.” Amenadiel said to her.  
  
“I intend to.” She retorted curtly.  
  
Duma watched quietly as they all filed out, then he stood up and embraced his brother fondly.  
  
“A bell, huh?”

The angel of silence rang it once, then he grinned while offering another eye roll at Astaroth.  
  
“He finds it amusing.” She huffed, sitting in the same chair he had just vacated. She looked exhausted. “I think he finds _Hell_ amusing.” She grumbled.  
  
Duma didn’t reply, he simply stretched, arms and wings extending and relaxing. He tilted his head, waiting for Amenadiel to say something.  
  
“I need to find Remi. I think she’s in trouble… Do you know any demons I could trust to help track her down?” He asked. 

Duma nodded, then he motioned with his hand and suddenly, the first born felt a presence at his feet and jumping back in alarm, he saw a little shadow shifting demon looking at him with bright ember spark eyes.  
  
“The mighty King has need for this one? Shnallz will serve!” It – _he?_ – elated.  
  
Amenadiel gaped. He hadn’t noticed it’s presences at all. After adjusting from the shock he looked down at the peculiar thing as it... drifted?... over. “Oh? And how can you help?” He wondered.  
  
“This one can sniff around the shadows and find anything being kept in lovely dark places.”  
  
Huh, that might actually be useful. “Can you track her from here?”  
  
“Is she in Hell?”  
  
“Not likely.”  
  
“Take this one with and if she is in the shadows, this one will find her.” Take it out of Hell. He hadn’t come expecting to recruit a demon he was likely to worry about, but the small being lurking at his legs hardly seemed a match for the danger they were heading into...  
  
As he deliberated, Duma placed something in his hand and looking down he saw a Pentecostal Coin. Duma closed his hand around it and nodded.

“Thank you, brother.” He said, clapping his hand on his shoulders. Duma smiled softly back before heading over to the chair again, which Astaroth reluctantly gave up.

“I suppose we should get back to work.” She sighed. Duma rang the bell and Amenadiel turned to leave.  
  
“Come on, then.” He motioned, and the creature wrapped itself around his leg. It was a bizarre feeling, like a damp cold night breeze, but… it seemed secure, so he made his way out of the library, spread his wings and took off, leaving the congregation of confused and angry demons to gape as he ascended toward Earth.

***

Dan stood on the beach watching the waves. He was still disoriented from the flight - traveling via angel express would’ve probably been more fun had he liked the angel - and he felt sick over what was about to happen. He had hoped the clue he slipped into the text would be enough... but it seemed she was choosing to mount a rescue mission instead of staying away. Which was just like her. 

_“I’ll be there. Glad you’re okay.”_

That’s all she had texted in reply. She probably thought she could treat this like a case, he realized reluctantly. She would either try to take them down, or deescalate by reasoning with them.

Zerachiel could not be reasoned with.

Maybe he used to be different. Maybe he really was a nice guy once. Elohim certainly seemed to think so. Man, it must suck to be Him right now, Dan thought with no small measure of sympathy. The angels were His kids. As a parent, he couldn’t even imagine.

Glancing around, he saw Chloe walking down the empty beach toward him, and he was impressed again by how good Zerachiel and his brainwashed stooges were at hiding. He smiled at her as he started over and she waved, eyeing him uncertainly. And damn, was that her ‘victim’ face? She definitely knew it was a trap.

And she still came to rescue him from a psychotic archangel and his goons. He almost laughed as he was reminded so thoroughly as to why he had fallen for her in the first place. She was selfless and brave.

But sometimes stupid.

“So, is your phone officially dead now?” Chloe asked as she gave him a hug.  
  
“Not sure. Haven’t been checking.” He replied, not untruthfully as he let go and looked around again for the others. Why hadn’t they come out yet?  
  
“Turned it off?” She guessed, even as she checked her own phone with a frown. 

“Not off...” He leaned in, voice low. “You alone?” Chloe narrowed her eyes at him.  
  
“What’s really going on?” She demanded softly, as her eyes scanned the scenery. “What did you need _help _with?”  
  
Dan felt his heart quake. He wanted to yell at her to run… but... He searched the foliage along the edge of the beach, knowing they were watching, and found himself tongue tied. Chloe looked at him more closely, concern growing on her face.  
  
“Dan? Are you… okay?” Her voice had switched into full victim mode now, and it nearly killed him that she was this worried about him.  
  
But their conversation cut short when they heard Ella cry out from somewhere out of sight. And suddenly, Zerachiel was coming forward, dragging her out from behind a mess of driftwood as she spit at him. Oh. That’s why they hadn’t come out yet.  
  
“You needn’t fear for Daniel.” He offered to Chloe, ignoring Ella’s attempts to break free. “He is perfectly unharmed. And so too will you be.” He said, smiling maliciously.

_“Capullo! El burro sabe mas que tu!” _Ella was yelling in Spanish now, which she almost never did. Which meant she was furious.

“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” Zerachiel laughed. Ella glared and spit again. 

Chloe turned to him and raised her hands slowly to show she wasn’t a threat. “We came unarmed. We just want you to let Dan go.” She said evenly.

Zerachiel tilted his head. “You came even though you knew? Why?” He was genuinely surprised. Dan wasn’t

“Because I was hoping I could reason with you. Because I had to try to help. It’s the right thing to do. You’re supposed to be an angel, right? Doing the right thing is important, yeah?”

Dan groaned. He couldn’t help it. He really hoped she had more of a plan than this.

But Zerachiel laughed as several of his goons came out from hiding. It wasn’t a cruel sound, but Dan didn’t trust it. “You sound just like Mîkā’el!” He chuckled. “I can see why the Devil is so intrigued by you.”

Dan felt a wave of dread wash over him. The last thing he wanted was for that creep to see Chloe like that, considering what he had done to Michael. “Stop talking, Chlo. There’s no point.” He suggested as neutrally as possible. 

“No, Daniel, let her speak.” Zerachiel commanded, as he handed Ella, who had grown quiet, off to one of his monsters. Her eyes were wide and she was looking between Chloe and Zerachiel with an almost panicked air. And Dan knew. They _did_ know what the bastard was guilty of... or, they suspected it, at least.

“You said you’re doing this so you can give the other angels freewill? I get it. Freedom is important. But it doesn’t make sense. How can you fight for freewill unless you already have it? Did it ever occur to you that you might’ve already been given what you want? That maybe this is all pointless harm?”

Ella was backing behind the fallen warrior holding her and lowering her head.

Zerachiel grinned. “I’m going to tell you the same thing I told my dear brother when he first brought that up. The war happened because He orchestrated it from the start. He lets you think your thoughts are your own, when in truth, you’re only a puppet. He _made_ us fight. But I’ve broken free by leaving His realm altogether. And now, we have a chance to save the others from His tyranny. But in order to defeat Father, one must do what is necessary. I’m sure that you, a detective, can understand that.”

Ella had her hands together. Was praying for help their plan? Chloe was stalling. As if to confirm this, she glanced at her phone again.

Zerachiel took notice. Without waiting for her to answer, he advanced, covering the distance with impossible speed. Chloe instinctively jumped back, trying to evade him as his fist closed around her wrist. Then he snatched the phone from her hand.

“Let us go! This is wrong, and you know it!” Chloe pulled back.

“Amenadiel!?” His eyes grew wide in alarm as he read her messages, but then he grinned at her. “You’re a clever one, aren’t you, my dear.” Then he turned to Ella. “But you can stop trying to pray. Raziel won’t let anything you say reach him.”

Ella looked up in alarm, eyes wide and devastated. 

“Actually, I should thank you. If not for your prayers, I may never have found you all.”

“What?” Ella exclaimed.

“Oh, Ella.” Chloe gasped.

“But _texts _might still reach him, so I guess we’d best be leaving.” Then he pulled Chloe in close as one of his drones took hold of Dan. “I’m not too keen on exchanging fists with my eldest brother.”

Then he crushed Chloe’s phone and tossed it in the sand. As he did so, the goon holding Ella snatched and crunched up hers as well. Then they unfurled their wings, preparing to leave. Well, this was a disaster.

Dan couldn’t take it anymore, he had to do...

Ella and Chloe launched themselves at their captors, throwing themselves on their backs. Then, as if it was rehearsed - which it probably was - they both jabbed them in the eyes. Huh. Dan never would’ve thought of that. It wouldn’t _hurt_ them, but it would still throw them off.

And it did, too. Zerachiel screamed in alarm, but as he fell to his knees, he maintained his hold on Chloe. Ella broke free, though. And she ran.

Zerachiel pinned Chloe in the sand, and she glared at him. Then he closed his eyes as the others started after Ella, and Dan felt a surge of panic. The asshole was going to take their freewill. But Chloe was onto him.

“Lucifer’s right! You’re nothing but a hypocrite! You’re not fighting for _freedom, _you’re fighting for_ power!” _She emphasized her point by kicking him in the groin... which only irritated him, but it _did_ get him to lose focus. “You’re a control freak pretending to _care!”_ She elbowed him in the kidney. Same reaction.

“Stop it!” He yelled. This just encouraged Chloe to increase her efforts.

Ella was tackled a short distance away, but she managed to wiggle out and continue running, and realizing his goon had let him go, Dan started to move to help her.

Maybe if they stalled long enough...

Two more managed to tackle Ella, who responded with more Spanish cursing.

It was in that moment that Dan heard a ding from his phone, which was still in the hands of Zerachiel’s stooge. The one next to him.

“Boss?” 

“Not now.” The rogue angel growled as he fought to subdue the wildly kicking Chloe.

“I know, but... Lucifer... is texting Daniel...”

Dan didn’t hesitate. He snatched his phone and ran. Everyone was too startled to react.

_“Hello, Daniel? It’s your guardian Devil to the rescue. Where’s the party?_  
👿☄️💥🔥🤯🐖💀! 😈💪🙏🌈👩👮🕵️👍”

“Lucifer!?!” He texted and hit send.

“We’re in trouble!” He hit send again. He stumbled because he wasn’t watching where he was going, but he caught himself and kept going.

“They’re gonna take us back to the fortress.” Send.

Glancing over his shoulder, he saw them starting to pursue.

As he ran, he kept texting, “Go to WA, talk to Fisher!” Send.

They were almost on him, now.

“Go to where he found Michael. Then go...” He was tackled. Desperately, he hit send.

_South! _

He still needed to type, ‘south!’ But his phone was taken away, and he was being hauled back to Zerachiel, who was holding Chloe in front of him with her hands behind her back now. And he was furious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1000 Kudos! 🎊🎉🎈  
I love you all! Thank you!❤️❤️❤️
> 
> I still adore Duma. 😍
> 
> Poor girls don’t know Menny’s out of range. 🥺  
But that’s what they get for failing to communicate. 😪
> 
> Ella said, “Asshole! Donkey’s know more than you!” 😁
> 
> And it’s gonna be cliffhangers from here on out.😈  
I know that makes me evil.😈
> 
> I love comments of all kinds! 💘


	48. Bringing a Gun to a Knife Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maze “hates” angels. Sandi Beyond! Azrael loses her temper. Lucifer won’t shut up.

Damn!

Maze couldn’t find the bastard anywhere. She was back on the pier, staring at the ocean, completely stumped. Usually, she could sniff divinity out, no problem, but his scent just vanished right there in the middle of the beach. It didn’t go anywhere... it just... _stopped. _

The frustrated demon sat by the carousel to think. She lost the trail, and it pissed her off. At first, she figured that if she waited, maybe he would reappear, but the more she thought about it, the less certain she was. Maze breathed in deep, closing her eyes in concentration, and the scent of ‘angel’ caught her attention. Guess he came back, after all. Standing up, she grinned... but the smell was wrong. It was crisper, spicier, and there was an undertone of sulphuric ash.

“Hey, wow, what team do you play for?” She heard an admiring woman’s voice saying from behind, and Maze instantly knew who it was. Turning around, she saw a tall, athletic man with chocolate skin, and soulful eyes. His hair had blonde tipped twists with fade working into a stylish goatee. That was new, but it was definitely him.

“Yo, could you sign my basketball?” A man asked, certain he was looking at a pro ball player. Duma’s approachable mannerism attracted people the last time they met, too, Maze remembered.

The angel waved them off and lit up when he spotted her walking toward him.

“Don’t bother, he’s a librarian, not a ball player. And he doesn’t talk.” Maze remarked as she approached. His admirers looked a little confused by this, but when Maze offered them a wicked grin, they scurried off.

Duma made his way over, with a merry tinkling accompanying each step he took. A bell? Confused, Maze followed the sound to see that he really was wearing a bell... on a chain necklace. Weird.

“So, it’s been a bit.”

Duma shrugged. 

“Lucifer said you’re watching Hell.” He nodded. Maze shrugged. Odd choice. Duma wasn’t exactly the most authoritative presence, but whatever. “What’s with the bell?”

The mute archangel sashayed then jumped, pretending alarm. Maze barked a laugh. He got Astaroth’s mannerisms down perfect. 

“Astaroth gave you a bell because you freaked her out. And you’re humoring her?”

The angel of silence smirked and leaned back on the railing of the pier, shrugging again and tilting his head while he laughed soundlessly.

Maze snorted. “You haven’t seen an angel even taller than you with white hair and boring brown wings, have you?” Duma shook his head. Then he held out a pouch. It was bright red, leather, and roughly made.

Maze snatched it and opened it. Six shiny bullets fell into her hand and her eyes grew wide as she took in the metal they had been made with. Hell mined, Hell forged... Bullets that could kill an angel. What ridiculous alternate reality was this? First, there’s Mîchael, and surprise, she couldn’t bring herself to hate him. Now an archangel was giving her - a demon - bullets that could kill an archangel.

“Are you sure you want to give this to me?” She heard herself demanding. “I could kill you with these. I could kill Mîchael with them... what makes you think I won’t?”

Duma sighed and shook his head, then he brought his pointer and middle finger to his temple and tapped twice. Maze knew what that gesture meant. He had seen something of the future. But what? What did he know?

Maze stared at the bullets, trying to figure it out when the whooshing of wings tossed her hair back, and looking up, she saw that he was already gone. Of course he was. Why would he stick around to explain himself?

Maze hated angels.

Suddenly, her butt vibrated. And not in any kind of kinky way either, unfortunately. Huffing irritably, she retrieved her phone to see that she got a text from an unknown number.

Unlocking it, she was greeted with the following message.

😈🕵️🌈👩🔜☠️❗️. ⚔️🚷🥺. 🛑☠️⁉️. 🥺🥺🥺!!!

What? 

Her first reaction was to tell Lucifer to use his words like a big boy, but then she remembered this was coming from an unknown number. It could be Lucifer using a borrowed phone from a stranger... but, something told her it wasn’t.

_“Michael?” _

She texted the question and waited. If the idiot archangel was texting with emojis, too...

Ding!

That was fast. Maze glanced down at her phone.

⚔️😇🥺🥺🥺

What the Hell? Who gave him her number? Why was he texting _her?_ What was with all the sad faces? Taking a deep breath - Linda said this helped with anger - the demon glared at the first text again. Devil. Detective. Rainbow. Girl. Soon. Death... 

Shit.

Lucifer was in trouble. And from the looks of it, so was Decker.

Maze started toward her bike. As she walked, she texted a reply.

“Where are you?”

Ding!

👩⚕️

He was with Linda. Linda was at the desert estate Lucifer told Ella to use after the zombies attacked her apartment, along with Charlie, and probably Trix, too. Maze shook her head. She hadn’t been gone long, and they were already being idiots... But they were _her_ idiots.

Even Lucifer.

_Especially _Lucifer.

He was the biggest moron of them all. Here he was, the _Devil, _with access to enough divine power to destroy and remake all of creation, and he decided to pick a fight without it. Without Mîchael at his side.

Stupid.

“I’m on my way.” She texted as she mounted her bike and set off. The bullets had been returned to their pouch, and Maze had a hunch she already knew who they were for. 

But first, she had a murder angel to collect. 

***

  
_Bright light hit his eyes and it took a moment for them to adjust, but when they did, he was surprised to see that he was in the Silver City. The demon, Mazikeen was there. “You attack my friends, you die!”_

What did that mean? Sandalphon knew it wasn’t real. It was just a reflection of his own thoughts. There was no hum from the strings stitching reality together, because none of it was real. That was the only way to tell the difference. Listen for the music of creation. Listen for order in the silent entropy of the abyss.

It was too quiet out here, beyond creation.  
  
_All of his pious brothers and sisters were gathered. Lucifer was battered and chained up, and Mîchael was approaching him. _

Sandalphon felt rage build up within him for an instant before he remembered this was a recreation. Actually, it was a copy of a copy. A mockup of Mîchael’s Hell loop, drawn forth from Sandalphon’s memories. 

_“You attack my friends, you die!” The demon was attacking him, but she wasn’t a demon anymore, she was an angel... and he was a twisted, gnarled monster._

Sandalphon watched as the angel Mazikeen destroyed the demon Sandalphon. He listened for reality in the abyss between universes. The fallen warriors were real. Which meant that if he followed the hum of creation, he could find them. 

But it was still quiet.

_The Defender of Heaven was talking to his ‘twin.’ “I know you’re not real, I know this is a farce...” He grabbed a wing and pulled violently on it, snapping it. ‘Lucifer’ cried out in pain, looking at him with wild, anguished eyes. “...and I know what I say now will never reach the ears of the real Samael...” He grabbed the other wing, but then his face contorted and his hand stilled... Sandalphon saw him concentrate, eyes closing and body trembling as he fought the loop. _  
  
This was what he had seen the day he and his soldiers entered Mîchael’s Hell loop to retrieve him for Zerachiel. Sandalphon couldn’t figure out why he was thinking about this, now. These distracting thoughts were getting in the way of listening.

_“Brother, please, why are you doing this?” Sandalphon begged, he looked at the Sword of God with frightened, betrayed eyes. All he wanted was for his siblings to be free._

Sandalphon tried to turn away from the scene, which, for some reason, he had inserted himself into in Lucifer’s place. He already knew how this ended. He didn’t need the rerun. He needed to find more fallen angels...  
  
_“I miss you. I’m tired of fighting, and I wish there had been another way.” Mîchael collapsed. The pretend Lucifer who was also Sandalphon shank away, asking him why he betrayed him, but then Mîchael put his finger to his lips and he grew quiet. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry this is the closest I will ever come to seeing you again. I’m sorry everyone hates you. I’m sorry you’re so alone, I’m sorry you think this is all your fault...” _  
  
Sandalphon had seen enough. He started to leave.

_A bright light flashed in his eyes. “You attack my friends, you die.” The demon explained, rolling her eyes._

Sandalphon growled in frustration. He needed to stop thinking about this. He had a job to do. He tried to focus on finding angels...  
  
_“What do you want?” Mîchael snapped as the scene around them froze. _

Sandalphon grew cold. The ‘archangel’ was looking at him. The_ real _him.  
  
“It’s time to go.” Sandalphon replied, surprising himself.  
  
_Mîchael backed away. “No. Leave me here.” He snarled at him, eyes flaring. _

His brother hadn’t wanted to leave Hell. Sandalphon had his soldiers with him back then, but it was still a challenge to subdue him. Far more trouble than he was worth.  
  
_“No! I’m not leaving! What do you want with me? Leave me here!” He screamed as Sandalphon approached. A mere touch was all it took for the archangel to collapse, trembling and gasping for breath as he curled in on himself._

__

__

_“Attack my friends, you die.” Mazikeen reminded casually from where she leaned against a shining pillar. Blood dripped from her wings. _

__

__

_A flash of light caught his eye._

What was with the light? 

_Gabriel destroying more cities, perhaps?  
  
Mîchael looked at Sandalphon brokenly as he begged. “No, please, I don’t want to leave, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please...”_

_Attack my friends, you die._

What did that_ mean? _Sandalphon pulled away from the scene. He could hear the hum of reality as the light flashed in his eyes. Following it, he realized he was heading for an exit.

He had come to find warriors... But... the lure of chaos whispered in his mind. He needed to go back. He wasn’t sure why.

_Attack my friends..._

Zerachiel had the answers.

_A flash of light..._

Zerachiel wasn’t telling him everything.

_...you die..._

Sandalphon made his way toward creation. Zerachiel had some explaining to do.

***

Azrael didn’t expect to find one in Ella’s apartment.  
  
_“No!” _She snarled, grabbing the phantom by the throat. “This has gone too far!” She roared at the terrified specter. “I’ve been lenient with all of you, because I’m a total sap for hard luck cases, but if you’re endangering Ella, I’m done!” She roughly tossed the bodiless soul to the floor with the strength of a much larger angel.  
  
“W… w… what?” The frightened apparition squeaked.  
  
_“Ella! _She’s my _friend!” _Azrael looked around. The apartment was empty. Even the animals were gone. “WHERE IS SHE!?”  
  
“The human?” The ghost bleated in terror as she cowered before the not-actually-a-ghost. “I don’t know. After Mazikeen killed me, she helped the demon dispose of my body... and... and packed up the animals and left. Haven’t seen her since. We weren’t going to hurt her! Just follow her until we found…” She stopped abruptly, eyes widening as she brought her ethereal hand to her mouth. Azrael’s eyes pierced into her.  
  
“Does this have something to do with why Mikey is missing?” She spit viciously.  
  
“You call him _Mikey?” _The fallen warrior blurted disbelievingly.  
  
Azrael’s ire subsided a bit. “Not to his face… though I probably could.” She sighed. Ever since Hiroshima, he pretty much let her get away with anything. Oops, she was getting distracted. Azrael let her temper flare up again as she zeroed in on her target. 

“That’s beside the point.” She advanced on the accused, dark wings fanning aggressively, and the ghost scooted back even further. “I need answers. The others were all tight-lipped, but I’m done playing nice. If you don’t tell me, I’ll dump you all at Gabe’s feet and let _him _decide what to do with you!”  
  
She stopped scooting back. “Th... that doesn’t... sound so bad…?” She fumbled in confusion.  
  
“Oh, really?” Azrael sneered. “Gabe’s been doing Mikey’s job, and since Dad won’t come out of His room, he has The Silver City under his command. And in case you didn’t get the memo, ever since Lu was kicked out, Mikey’s been Gabe’s number one bro. Do you remember what he’s like when he loses his temper?” 

The ghost went pale. Well... _more _pale, anyway.

Gabriel was typically all about fun-times and relaxation, and it was easy to disregard what he really was. But Sodom and Gomorrah was rather hard to forget. The fallen angel wasn’t there, but Azrael was willing to bet she’d at least heard of it. The humans certainly hadn’t forgotten.  
  
“Okay.” She relented, standing up and looking defeated. “Yes, we had something to do with his absence.” Azrael grew furious again.  
  
“What did you do to him?” She snarled. “Where is he?”  
  
_“We _didn’t do anything, really. I mean, mostly is was Zerachiel… and Sandalphon.” She admitted, looking away shamefully.   
  
Azrael’s brain broke. Zeri and Sandi? How was that even possible??? 

The angel of Death blanked out as she sat heavily onto Ella’s couch, then she took a steadying breath to try to counteract the dizziness. “Right... okay...” She shook her head and looked at the phantom again. “So, where is he?” She demanded, adopting a stern tone.  
  
“He got away. I don’t know…” She admitted weakly. 

Got away. Right. 

Azrael stood and grabbed the disembodied soul, drawing her in close. “You’re gonna tell me everything.”

***

Lee, A.K.A. “Mr. Said Out, Bitch,” focused on the road. He wasn’t thinking about Satan. Sitting next to him. Yammering ceaselessly about things that made no sense. He wasn’t thinking about how this... _being... _probably owned his soul. _Why _did he take the money? Why did he take the... _pants???_

Oh, God!

He _definitely _wasn’t thinking about the Devil standing exposed in front of him, with his... _No! _He wasn’t thinking of it! He wasn’t...

Beelzebub suddenly thrust his phone into Lee’s line of sight.

“Do you think this message is clear?”

“I... need to see the road...” The vehicle swerved while he tried not to panic. As Satan removed the phone from his field of vision, Lee caught a glimpse of the text... composed completely of emojis. Which was weird, right? Should he... say something?

He turned nervously toward the insufferable man... no. Not a man... _‘Definitely a man,’ _a voice in the back of his head pointed out as the memory of...

_No! _He wasn’t thinking about it!

“I’m fairly certain I explained how emojis work to the Detective. Perhaps I should try Ms. Lopez?”

Lee couldn’t help replying. “I’m pretty sure no one will understand it if it’s just emojis...” The Devil looked insulted. _Shit! Shit! Shit! _“I mean...” 

“Ms. Lopez is a scientist. She’ll figure it out.” He pouted. 

Lee focused on not thinking...

“Why aren’t they _answering?! _Perhaps I should try Daniel.” The Devil released a long suffering sigh. “...But Daniel isn’t smart like the ladies... I best include some words in there...”

It grew quiet as Satan texted. Lee didn’t like it. He eyed the all-too-human ADHD Devil cautiously. Suddenly_ ‘Highway to Hell’ _started blaring, and he yelped, nearly crapping himself. 

The Devil laughed. “Relax, it’s just my ringtone!” He answered the call and hit speakerphone to prove his point. “See?” Then to the phone, “Hello?”

“Morningstar?” An authoritative voice answered.

“Good morning, Lieutenant!” Satan chirped.

“I’ve been trying to contact Decker and Lopez. Please remind them that if they plan on using their personal days, they need to schedule in advance.” It sounded like he was lecturing the _Devil! _Was this guy his... BOSS?!? Was that... _GOD???_

“Yes, well I imagine it’s rather difficult to anticipate being abducted by psychotic archangels...” 

_“What?” _The voice on the other end exclaimed, echoing Lee’s thoughts. 

The creature just kept talking. “...but as soon as I rescue them, I’ll be sure to relay the message. Though, to be honest, they should’ve seen it coming, don’t you think? Truly, how did they expect this to go?” Lee turned onto Valley Highway.

“Abducted?” The voice seemed alarmed.

“Yes. Try to keep up.” The Devil huffed petulantly. The mood didn’t last though, and the Beast didn’t stop _talking! _“But if it were you, wouldn’t you’ve brought backup to go rescue poor Daniel...”

“Espinoza?” The voice was climbing in pitch. 

It was in that moment that Lee spotted the gravel turnaround by the river. They finally made it! Hallelujah! Lee pulled over and turned nervously to the celestial chatterbox. “Um... this is it. I’m... free, now, right?”

The Devil looked at him in confusion, turning off speakerphone and tilting his head. “Bloody Hell, you’ve been free the entire time.” He grumbled, then bringing the phone to his ear, he exhaled dramatically. “I apologize, but it seems I’ve arrived and my ride is trying to get rid of me. Shall we continue this lovely chat tomorrow?”

Even though the phone was off speaker, the reaction to this was loud enough Lee could still hear it. “Wait! Don’t hang...” The Devil ended the call.

Then he opened the door and hopped out. But he didn’t close it. “Daniel... messaged me...” He appeared distressed as he wandered off, eyes glued to his phone. Lee reached over to close the door himself, then he turned the vehicle around and sped away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMGoodness... timeline!🧐
> 
> Mi has only been awake for five days.  
He slept for three.  
Everything before the feather healing happened in one day.
> 
> Since Mi’s escape:  
It hasn’t even been a week from Mi’s perspective. 🥺  
He is doing remarkably well, considering.🤕  
It’s been mere hours for Gabriel.🤯  
Who knows how long it’s been for Rae-Rae... 😪  
Everyone else is just overwhelmed.😧  
Especially Luci, who eight days prior, was still in Hell.🔥  
He thought he would never see Chloe again.💔  
He thought his Mī hated him, but was safe in Heaven.😣
> 
> It’s a Wednesday.


	49. I’m Not Jesus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Demon picks up the Murder Angel. Lucifer angry, Lucifer smash!

Maze ghosted past Linda and Charlie as they watched some weird show about talking cats and slunk up the stairs to find Mîchael in the corner room. Trix spotted her as she crept past, and offered a conspicuous wink. Huh, now she knew who gave him her number. She found him wrapped up in blankets and holding Miss Alien while glaring out the window. When he didn’t notice her arrival, she cleared her throat, and startled, he whirled to look at her, his expression changing quickly from alarm to surprised hopefulness.  
  
“Mazikeen of the Lilim!” He got off the bed, tossing the blankets aside, but he kept Miss Alien. Maze rolled her eyes.  
  
“So, Lucifer’s being an idiot. You agree?” She asked in a hushed voice. He nodded. “Decided to go into dangerous territory and left both of us behind.” Another nod. “Stupid.”  
  
“I tried to talk him out of it. He didn’t listen.” He whispered, approaching her and looking at her desperately. “I… still can’t get to him. My wings…” His voice cracked and he closed in on himself. Maze forced down the icky feeling that suspiciously resembled sympathy, and smirked.  
  
“So, the damsel in distress needs rescuing from the tower.” She teased, as she crossed the room to the window and slid it open. Looking out, she saw an easy path to the ground where her bike waited. “Let’s go, damsel.” She stepped out and motioned for him to follow.  
  
Michael huffed indignantly. “I think I preferred attack dog.” He slipped out beside her. “And murder angel.” He grumbled. But he still followed her down. She snickered to herself, pleased with having gotten under his skin. He was much easier to mess with than she had initially thought.  
  
“What about lost puppy?” She teased as she dropped to the ground. His eyes flared for a brief moment, and the demon stifled a laugh. They were supposed to be sneaking out, after all.  
  
“I refuse to answer to that.” He huffed as he landed by her side. Maze smirked triumphantly as she made her way over to where her bike waited, with two helmets hanging on the handle bars. “Thank you.” She heard him add after a pause.  
  
“You’re good in a fight.” She shrugged as she mounted her bike and looked at him expectantly.  
  
Mîchael stopped advancing to stare at her. He opened his mouth to speak, but he seemed to be rendered silent for some reason. Maze shook her head. Was he having second thoughts?   
  
“Well, come on!” Maze hissed, motioning for him to get on the bike. If he said ‘no,’ she was gonna leave without him. She didn’t need to babysit a broken archangel, she thought as she glanced at the toy he still had in his hand.  
  
Mîchael just stared. “On _that?” _He blinked owlishly and pointed. “How is that even a vehicle?”  
  
Maze rolled her eyes. Figured. “It’s a bike. Get on.” She explained, impatiently motioning for him to get a move on. She realized he probably didn’t even know motorcycles were a thing. Because his Asshole Dad was crappy like that… never let him have any fun.  
  
The archangel took a tentative step forward, hovering a few feet away. Uncertain of what to do. “How? Where?” He asked seriously, brow furrowing and head tilting.   
  
She laughed. “Behind me. You get to nestle your crotch right up to my ass and wrap your arms around my waist.” She grinned, leaning toward him suggestively. Then, grabbing the extra helmet she tossed it at him. “And you need to put this on.”  
  
His mouth fell open and his back straightened, clearly appalled and confused, even as he caught it with his free hand and looked at it inquisitively. “You’re joking, right?” He kept looking between the helmet and her backside, seemingly frozen in place.  
  
“You wanna save those idiots from themselves, or not?” She rolled her eyes and motioned nebulously toward what was probably north to emphasize her point.  
  
Sighing, he reluctantly climbed on behind her, putting the helmet on. “Why must I wear this?” He wondered as she heard it clip, then she felt him carefully wrap his arms around her waist, and glancing down, she noticed he still had Miss Alien.  
  
“I can’t afford to pay for another traffic violation… and… are you still vulnerable?” She inquired as she turned the key and the bike roared to life. She felt him grow tense behind her and she laughed again. This was way more fun than she thought it would be. Even _if _he was only acting like this because he was a little broken.  
  
“I’ve no idea. Haven’t checked.” She heard his answer in her ear as he leaned in to make sure he was heard over the roar of the bike. She felt his breath on her neck and a familiar tingle stirred within her. _Not Lucifer! Not Lucifer! _And even if it were, that ship had sailed a long time ago. What... who she really wanted was someone smaller, softer. Someone with big brown doe eyes and thick black locks. Feeling the threat of loneliness edging in, Maze quickly turned her attention toward an easy distraction.  
  
“Hold on tight. And lean with the turns.” She instructed right before she took off, letting the torque do its thing as the bike reared up, burning rubber.   
  
_“AHHH!” _The archangel exclaimed as they tore out of there. She felt his grip tighten and legs clench. For a moment, she thought he might be freaking out when she felt a slight tremor behind her, until the sound of his laughter made its way to her ears. “This is_ marvelous,_ Mazikeen!” He elated.  
  
Maze grinned. This really _was _fun. She could never get Lucifer on a bike. “Right?” Maze agreed. He seemed to settle in behind her, getting comfortable as he nestled in more snugly, and it actually felt rather nice. She was suddenly grateful no other demons were around to see them. They would never understand.   
  
“It’s almost like flying, can you go faster?” He almost pleaded. How could she possibly say no to that?   
  
“Hell, yeah.” She announced, and she accelerated, earning her a whoop of joy from behind. Screw the other demons and what they might think, she decided. She was having fun, and so was he. And when they got where they were going, they were gonna kick some serious ass.

***

The “park” was a small gravel turnaround with access to the river. A small patch of flowers sprouted from the middle of the drive... they were decidedly out of season. Which meant Mī had been there when he had first escaped. A small pang or remorse welled up in him at that thought, but he brushed it aside as he slid out of Mr. Said Out Bitch’s truck, checking to see what the 5 unread messages were about.

And he felt no small measure of dread when he saw them. “Daniel... messaged me...” He heard himself saying as he read and reread the texts.

_“Lucifer!?!  
We’re in trouble!  
They’re gonna take us back to the fortress.  
Go to WA, talk to Fisher!  
Go to where he found Michael. Then go”_

After taking a moment to collect himself, he looked around. He could skip finding Fisher, the flowers proved he was already in the right place. A drop hit his phone and he realized, much to his dismay, it was starting to rain. Mī’s flowers fluttered under the increasing rainfall.

Lucifer looked at the text again. “Go, where, Daniel?” The way the message cut off like this was not a good sign.

He was about to take to the sky and just circle until he found something when a vehicle pulled into the turnaround, and as he glanced up, he recognized the telltale signs of an unmarked police car. Odd. Then the door opened and a plain clothes officer stepped out.

“Lucifer Morningstar?” The obvious cop gawked.

“Do I know you?” Lucifer tilted his head.

“What are you doing back here? Last I knew, you were somewhere in Oregon...” Lucifer narrowed his eyes, trying to remember the last time he had been in Oregon. “I’m Detective Christensen, I was assigned your case!” He exclaimed. Lucifer smiled as understanding set in.

“Ah, yes! Douche 2.0!” He grinned. The Detective had mentioned him.

“What?” Douche 2.0 exclaimed before shaking his head. “Never mind, you’re here now, so maybe you can explain everything.”

Scoffing, he waved the dullard off. Of course Douche 2.0 would try to make this all about himself... but he may be able to help Lucifer. “We can make a deal. Information for information.” He smiled invitingly at the human.

“A deal?”

“Oh, come, now. It isn’t complicated. You tell me which direction the bad guy’s super-secret fortress of doom is, and I, in return offer reassurance that the matter is being handled.”

Douche 2.0’s reaction to this was to argue, but after some haggling, he finally provided him with the information he needed.

“Mr. Fisher reported that you said they were south of here.” He finally informed. Oh, right.

Glaring at the overcast sky as the rain fell heavily upon them, Lucifer shook his head in frustration. Bloody clouds. “Which way is south?”

Douche 2.0 pointed and Lucifer turned to leave. “Wait, you still haven’t...” He started to protest.

Lucifer sighed. “Fine, a deal’s a deal.” He relented, then glancing over his shoulder, he grinned wolfishly. “I’m the Devil, it was my brother - you know him as Michael - who was abducted. He was taken by rogue archangels. They were trying to overthrow Dad, which normally, I’m all for, but they hurt Mī, so I’m going to punish them.” He heard Douche 2.0 start to protest - something about crazy talk - but then he spread his wings, and he heard the wanker shriek in terror when he took flight. As he flew, he put his hands together to reach out to a sister he hadn’t spoken with in eons.

_‘Raziel, sister, remember me? I know your dirty little secret. I know your lies. And once I’m done with your coconspirators, I’ll make sure everyone knows what you’ve done. So say your prayers, because this is the end of the line for you.’_  
  
Then the avenging fallen archangel turned his attention elsewhere. Scanning below, he saw the road turn away and he could make out what resembled an animal trail continuing south. He kept going until he spotted what he was searching for, and in no time at all, he was landing on an immaculate lawn next to a Roman-styled mansion.  
  
“Jesus Christ!” A human exclaimed at the sight of him landing, wings spread and eyes burning red.  
  
“Not quite.” He snarled, voice resonating with power. The man’s face twisted in terror as fire started to radiate across Lucifer’s body, tearing his suit and shifting him into a very angry Devil. “Jesus isn’t here. Only me. And I’m not the forgiving type.” He snarled, grabbing the human and tossing him aside.  
  
Instantly, the place was swarming with guards, both of the celestial and mortal variety, and like the lot of dolts they were, they opened fire. Since He’d already ruined his suit, he just spread his arms wide, and laughed menacingly as the bullets fell harmlessly to the ground in front of him. They stared dimwittedly for a moment before the fallen angels decided to change tactics, sending the humans off to Dad knew where, and charging him. As they converged, various weapons in hand, Lucifer proceeded to join the dance. One swung a sword at him, which he had good reason to believe could actually harm him, but he easily maneuvered out of range. These were clearly not Zerachiel’s finest.  
  
The brute tried again, so he sidestepped, grabbing the hilt and crushing his attacker’s hand as he did so. The fallen warrior let out a cry while his grip loosened and Lucifer disarmed him. Then, swinging the sword, he blocked another, who brought a spear down on him, and he used his wings to slice into the one who was trying to get at him from behind.  
  
“What fun!” Lucifer jeered as three more tried to take him down. He ducked under one attack while twirling away from another, and the twits crashed into each other in the process.

As the third jumped him from behind and tried to hit him on the head, he chuckled, shrugging the sod off, then grinning down at him as he landed, he said, “Feisty, aren’t you? Before we get too into it, my safe word is rapture.” Then turning, he threw the sword, pinning another to the wall of the building.

“Speaking of... Perhaps I ought to leave a message for your boss,” He blocked a thrown spear with his wing. “I promised a reckoning. Maybe...” He caught a charging angel and threw her through a wall, wrecking the architecture in the process. “...It can start with a_ wreck-_oning?!” He grinned as several attackers paused to gawk at his marvelous pun. “Oh, come now, that was a good one!” One rolled his eyes. Excellent. He charged into the fighting again.  
  
Pinning another against a pillar, he lifted his fist to deal a devastating blow, and the bloody plonker started begging him for mercy. “Certainly, I’ll show you the same mercy you offered Mī,” He growled, and the traitorous fool turned a lovely shade of pale before he brought his fist down with enough force to crack the marble pillar he was pinned to. In that moment, he felt chains wrapping around him. Someone was trying to chain the Devil. How cliché.   
  
“I do love me a bit of bondage, but I’m afraid I’m not feeling very subby today.” He remarked, as he grabbed the loose end of the chain and yanked the angel holding it off her feet, bringing her within range of a proper kick. The chains loosened and he burst out of them just as another leapt onto his back.  
  
“Piggy back, is it? I think you’ve failed to realize, I’m more of a big bad wolf.” He growled, tossing his attacker aside, busting up the stairs in the process.   
  
Eager to cause more damage, he turned his attention to the mansion. He was going to huff and puff and tear the building apart brick by brick. Flying in through a great picture window, he took a moment to look around. The place was gaudy. Outdated, overdone extravagance. “The gold standard of tasteless.” He sighed, allowing a brief moment of disappointment before getting to work. “Really, destroying this place will be a vast improvement.” He remarked as his eyes found a room filled with weapons. Sauntering in, his eyes landed on a morningstar mounted to the wall, and he couldn’t help himself. Two warriors ran in, and froze when they saw him. “I know, it’s a bit redundant, but they don’t call it a morningstar for nothing!” He elated as he plucked it from the wall.  
  
One fled and the other charged only to be caught by the weapon as it whirled around him. It was satisfying... but something was missing. “Is it just me, or does this feel anticlimactic?” His question was answered with the sound of whimpering from his fallen enemy. Then, on a hunch, he set a spark lose and the end caught alight. “Ah, much better.” 

As the angel staggered to his feet, Lucifer continued in his task. “If you don’t want to be removed from your body, you’d best shove off.” He advised, and the warrior retreated. With no one else trying to attack, he was free to cause as much damage as he wanted, and everywhere he went, he left rubble and fire in his wake.  
  
Until something golden caught his eye, stopping him in his tracks.  
  
A case was set up in what looked like a trophy room, with a soft white light underneath. Mîchael’s wings were fanned out artfully, positioned just so, to catch the light. They sparkled. 

Lucifer hadn’t seen them since... _that _day, and seeing them on display like this felt like a fist squeezing around his heart. He remembered finding his own wings mounted by the manky auctioneer who had gotten drunk on divinity after one look, and now the same thing had happened to his twin, but worse. Because this wasn’t the work of a hapless human. This was done by a brother. Mī’s wings had been _taken... _cut forcibly from his back. He was only vaguely aware of the Devil form fading away as understanding sank in. He wasn’t the worst thing Heaven had coughed up… not by a long shot.

Lucifer looked at his own wings; the wings he had tried so hard to be rid of, and a shudder coursed through him at the thought.  
  
“Beautiful, aren’t they?” A familiar voice said from behind. Rage surged within him and his eyes flared again as he turned to face the monster who had hurt his Mī.  
  
“I must say, when you throw a tantrum, you know how to get your point across.” Zerachiel sneered. He was holding Chloe by the wrist, and leveling a gun at his chest.

**_Song Title:_** [I’m Not Jesus](https://youtu.be/PMLsF8ajI6U) by Apocolyptica, Featuring Corey Taylor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maze bringing Mi to the fight without Luci at his side: good idea or bad? 🤨
> 
> They have a looong ways to go, though. 😣
> 
> Christen Christensen: the Detective from the beginning who kept staring at Chloe’s breasts. Some of you were hoping he would get what’s coming to him... 😈  
Douche 2.0 is going to need therapy now. 🤣🤣🤣
> 
> Oh, Lucifer, what kind of mess have you gotten yourself into? 😪


	50. My Love Will Never Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is pure angst and whump! God makes an important decision. Lucifer!!!🥺

_“What are you doing, son?” God watched as His Golden Angel went from room to room, grabbing things and putting them into a pile. A soft blanket, a ball of starlight, a vial of snow... trinkets which held sentimental value to the twins. Only a short time prior, he had cast Samael out of Heaven, as he had been instructed, and now, he was frantically packing to leave.  
  
“Don’t play dumb with me, Father, you know everything.” Mîchael answered with unconcealed harshness. He didn’t stop what he was doing as he spoke. The Father watched as His son placed each item into a satchel that should’ve been too small to hold them. Another mini-verse, it seemed. God smiled almost imperceptibly, knowing how much of an accomplishment it was to make those. Mîchael picked up an instrument and looked at it affectionately. It had a round base with a long stem, strings pulled taught, reaching from the base to the top of the head. Samael had come up with its design not that long ago. Tenderly, Mîchael put it in the satchel.  
  
“You can’t go to him.” The Presence said softly, hating the words even as they left his lips.  
  
“Are you going to stop me?” Mîchael retorted, without pausing in his packing.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
The Prince of Heaven finally stopped to look at his Father. His lower lip quivered and his hands trembled as he cast accusing eyes at God. “But he’s alone down there!” He exclaimed as his trembling hands clenched into fists. “He doesn’t deserve that. He just wanted us to be free.” God watched sadly as tears sprang free from His son’s eyes and trailed down his cheeks. Mîchael’s voice cracked with feeling as he glared at the Creator. “I know why that couldn’t happen, but he doesn’t understand. His intentions were good. He shouldn’t have to suffer alone for it! Please.”  
  
“I know, Mîchael, and it breaks my heart as much as it does yours, but I need you here.” God explained calmly. He knew His son wouldn’t listen, but He also knew he would understand... in time.  
  
“Then you should have found a better way of dealing with Sammy.” He spat back, grabbing his satchel and heading for the balcony, ready to take flight. “If you want me to stay, you’re going to have to stop me yourself. I won’t do it for you.” He challenged.  
  
God sighed. He had already done so. As Mîchael reached the balcony and spread his wings, he felt them brush against an invisible barrier. Glaring at his Father, he reentered, and made his way into the living room, marched across it, and opened the main doors, leading into the rest of the palace only to find the same barrier in place. God watched as his son tried every exit, realization having dawned on him almost immediately, but too stubborn to admit defeat until he exhausted all options.  
  
Finally, after confirming there was no way out, he sank into the middle of the floor and gave his Father a look of pure hatred, right before he collapsed in a heap to cry silently, wings folding in around himself like a golden cocoon.  
  
It didn’t take long - the equivalent of a few weeks in Heaven by mortal standards - before God removed the barrier. His children were relieved to see their brother emerge, but of course, the first thing he had done was to fly down to Hell. The others didn’t know where he went, only that he offered not even a glance to any of them as he left.  
  
God didn’t stop him.  
  
He didn’t need to. When he came back the first time, he was confused. He went through the motions of life in the Silver City, but he refused to take up his duties. After a short time, he tried again. When he came back the second time, he was furious.  
  
God was in His workshop when Mîchael stormed in.  
  
The archangel didn’t say anything. Words were unnecessary. Instead, he clenched his hand into a fist and brought it to his Father’s face, striking with enough force and power to have destroyed anyone else but Him. The Lord didn’t stop him. He knew His child needed an outlet, and a part of Him felt it was only fair.  
  
After a moment, Mîchael’s expression grew empty. “You’ve taken everything.” He whispered.   
  
God only replied by taking His son in His arms. Mîchael didn’t return the embrace, but he didn’t push Him away either. After a time, He let go to look at the defeated expression on his face.  
  
“All I have now is the purpose you have given me. So tell me, Father, what is it you would have me do?” There was ice in his words. Ice on his heart. Ice in his blue eyes, and it would be a long time before the cold would melt away._  
  
Elohim sighed, opening his eyes. He was doing it again.

Remembering.

It was still a painful memory, and as He was, in His human form, cut off from His full self, He felt guilt as He tried to recall why it had needed to happen. He couldn’t quite remember the particulars of The Plan, but He knew it had been necessary at the time. Putting His hands together, one in a fist and the other wrapped around it, He rested His elbows on His knees and dropped His chin into the fisted hand, thinking.  
  
The Creator glanced at the wall… the wall that had been fashioned with fetters; the wall that had been used to hold His Golden Angel, and a tear fell from His eye. He knew that Zerachiel had done it believing it was ‘necessary,’ and the weight of that truth hit the Father like a brick. How many times did His Mîchael have to suffer because others did what they thought was necessary. How many times had he been denied the right to decide what he wanted? Unlike Samael, who suffered because of his own choices, Mîchael never really had much choice. How many ways had He, Himself, caused His beloved son to suffer silently, and how many ways had Zerachiel tormented him in the name of what was mistaken for the Greater Good?  
  
God knew that what had happened so long ago had indeed been necessary, but…  
  
The wall had a collar fixed to it, with chains coming from it… and there were manacles for His angel’s wrists and ankles, and another restraint positioned to be fastened around his midsection… If He closed His eyes, He could almost see him there, looking sadly at Him, questioning with his eyes. Why?  
  
The thought concerned him. Why would He permit this? If He restored Himself, He could easily go back and make it so all of this never happened in the first place… but it was happening. Which meant that either He never got out of this mess, or else, for some reason, He had… or would… chose to allow it. He would never stand for Mîchael to suffer this way… unless…  
  
Was this suffering somehow necessary too?  
  
God was starting to hate that word. He wondered if this was His temporarily human mind rebelling against the big picture… or if it was more, but He knew one thing. He was done letting Mîchael suffer silently for the mistakes of others.   
  
It was no longer “necessary.”  
  
As God contemplated the weight of His decision, the door to the prison opened and one of Samael’s recently liberated fallen warriors wandered in cautiously. “I almost didn’t come.” He confessed, holding up the keys.  
  
Elohim nodded. “But you see it too, don’t you? Zerachiel has lost his way.”  
  
The angel sighed. “He took away our freedom. He plans on taking away the freedom of everyone but his brothers and sisters, leaving only the archangels free… so long as they behave.” The angel brought the key into the hole, and kept talking, as if he was trying to convince himself that he was making the right choice.  
  
“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m not exactly pleased with how you were running things, but, at least you don’t have a God complex.” Then he startled at his words and laughed, realizing who he was talking to.  
  
Elohim nodded, amused by his creation’s unintentional joke. “I will take that as a compliment, my child.” The door opened and He stepped out.  
  
“Don’t call me that. It’s confusing. I’m not the product of yours and Goddesses union. I am only your creation. As such, I have no father. And I’m fine with that. No father means I don’t need to worry about Daddy issues, and I swear, all of your _actual_ kids have serious Daddy issues.” He remarked harshly.  
  
The Creator looked at the rather bold angel and smirked. “What would you have me do to change that?” He wondered, curious. The angel pulled back in alarm.  
  
_“You’re _asking _me? _Isn’t it obvious? Give us the same freedom you’ve given humanity. Start letting us make decisions for ourselves, to lead our own lives.” He grumbled, turning to leave, motioning for Him to fallow.  
  
“Consider it done.” He replied. He had been putting a lot of thought into that very notion ever since His chat with Daniel. The angel stopped, stiffening and turned to gape at Him.  
  
“You’re lying.”  
  
“Not in the habit of doing that, son.”  
  
“So, what, I unlock your cage, and like a genie released from a bottle, you grant me my wish? Do I get two more?” He jibed icily.  
  
“No. I was planning on it already. It won’t be immediate, but it _will _be done. These things can’t be rushed, after all. But since you asked, I’m curious. What would your other two wishes be?” He smiled playfully at the befuddled angel, as others were drawing closer, staring in disbelief.  
  
“I… uh… I’m sick of looking like a zombie…” He stammered, looking at his side, where a large rotten patch of flesh hung loosely. “And… I guess… the other banished warriors should be allowed to come home.”  
  
Elohim laughed. “You will have to figure out how to fix the first one yourself, though I can grant your third wish. But first, we need a plan for dealing with Zerachiel and Sandalphon. So tell me, where are they now?”  
  
***

“It seems to me that the easiest way to deal with you is to just shoot you, seeing as you’re mortal now.” Zerachiel sneered.  
  
“No!” Chloe pulled against his hold, but he had a firm grip. “Lucifer, run!” She pleaded, eyes starting to tear up. Lucifer didn’t run. He just looked at them, wings out and shirtless, eyes wide with worry for her as the crazy medieval weapon he was holding slipped from his hand. Slowly, he turned to face them fully and his expressions shifted from concern back into wrath as his eyes flared a vibrant red.  
  
“Go ahead. Death isn’t going to stop me from coming back and ripping you to pieces.” He snarled viciously. “And if you so much as touch her, I will…”  
  
“You’re hardly in the position to throw around threats.” The jackass holding Chloe’s wrist laughed, and just like that, he pulled the trigger. Chloe’s world shattered with the deafening sound.  
  
In the same instant, Lucifer launched himself at them, and even though the bullet hit mid-flight, his momentum carried him forward, and he connected with Chloe’s captor, lifting him off the ground. Zerachiel let go of her wrist as they plowed through the wall.   
  
“LUCIFER!” Chloe screamed as she ran after them, leaping through the still crumbling hole. Out on the lawn, the other Fallen were holding Ella and Dan. Everyone just stared, dumbfounded at the two archangels. Zerachiel skidded to a stop a short distance from Lucifer who was struggling to get up as blood pooled around him.  
  
“Oh, God! Lucifer!” Ella cried, and Dan cursed as he started to fight the warrior holding him with no success.   
  
Chloe was at Lucifer’s side in an instant, and as she knelt, she heard him gasping for breath. Slowly, painstakingly, he forced himself to roll over, wings folding awkwardly and soaking up crimson as he turned to look at her. Then he looked down at his chest, which had been torn open by the bullet. “Bollocks. I…” He coughed, and blood spilled from his lips to land on Chloe’s lap as she took his head in her arms, and cradled him. “...Really… hate being shot.” More coughing.  
  
“You idiot, what are you doing here?” Chloe sobbed, vaguely aware that his murderous brother was clambering to his feet.  
  
Lucifer looked at her with unfocused eyes and reached up to touch her cheek. One wing fluttering uselessly. “Run…” He gasped. Then it hit her. He was only bleeding out because she was there… but if she left him… “Before he…” more coughing, “...takes your freedom… from you.” Then his eyes widened when suddenly Zerachiel was back, with a sword in his hand.  
  
Chloe’s first instinct was to attack, but she knew that was useless. These celestials were a lot stronger than she had realized. She didn’t want to leave Lucifer, but getting away was his only chance.  
  
But as she stood, Zerachiel was on her again, grabbing her and pulling her away from him. “Don’t worry, I won’t break your toys.” He laughed as he handed her off to one of the zombie angles.  
  
“Don’t hurt him!” She yelled, struggling against her captor’s hold. He just shook his head and turned to Lucifer.  
  
Then he roughly grabbed Lucifer by the hair, lifting him and driving the sword through his torso from behind, right below where his wings connected to his back. Lucifer screamed as a spasm of pain coursed through his body and his stunning white wings flapped feebly, then the bloody sword emerged from his chest.  
  
“You monster!” Chloe choked as the heat of tears filled her eyes and Lucifer fell forward.  
  
Zerachiel put a triumphant foot on his back and leaned in as blood seeped out, still holding the blade in his back. “This is a familiar feeling for you, isn’t it? Always on the losing side.” He laughed coldly. “But unlike Mîkā’el, I’m not going to hold back or spare your life. I want you to feel this punishment for betraying the cause. These pretty wings can’t hide what you really are, Devil.” He sneered. “And Hell is too good for you.”  
  
Lucifer struggled, even as he grew weaker by the second, all his energy slipping away with his blood and Chloe couldn’t take another moment. Her face fell into her hands and she wept. Lucifer was being taken away from her again. She tried to tell herself he could find a way back… that he had done it before... that this wasn’t real, but it _felt _real. Off to the side, she heard Ella sobbing and Dan screaming, but her world was shrinking to just the trembling in her shoulders, the tears, the snot, and the anguish. 

The warrior holding her seemed to take pity, because he let her fall to her knees, even as he maintained his hold. When next she looked, Her partner - her Lucifer - was laying lifeless on the grass, unseeing eyes staring, blood soaked wings fanned out on both sides in a pool of red, with the sword still there, and the brother who murdered him still standing with one foot on his back, a mockery of the archangel Michael statues and paintings, the ones always showing him standing atop the defeated Devil… except, in this cruel reality, the Devil was the real angel, and the ‘angel’ was the Beast.  
  
Chloe kept trying to remind herself that Lucifer was immortal, that this wasn’t real, that he would never really die... She kept trying to tell herself that he would come back… and rip Zerachiel apart, but the image in front of her was telling a very different story. Chloe knew death. She dealt with it and it’s finality all the time. Lucifer was pale, still and… _empty, _and her heart quailed to see him like that.  
  
After a moment, Zerachiel stepped off and pulled the sword out, then he looked at the three humans he had captured and sighed. “You’re wasting your tears on him, but fear not, the anguish will be eradicated as soon as I figure out what’s been interfering with my power.” Then he motioned for two of his soldiers to come forward and take the lifeless form of the fallen archangel.  
  
But in that instant, another angel crashed into Zerachiel from above, sending him flying back and tearing another divot into the already thrashed lawn. This new angel stood tall… taller than Lucifer or Zerachiel, long white hair falling around his face, and brown wings arching aggressively.  
  
“WHAT! Have. YOU! _DONE?!” _He roared as Zerachiel staggering to his feet.  
  
“Sandalphon?!” The bastard blurted. “You were supposed to be beyond creation by now.”   
  
“Sent away so I wouldn’t see what you were up to?” He growled in reply, glancing at Lucifer’s body, a look of deep misery crossing his features for the briefest moment. “Traitor!” He accused, locking eyes on his former commander as he straightened to his full, imposing height.  
  
Zerachiel shrugged. “This is a temporary death, Sandalphon. I don’t intend for it to last. I will bring him back…”  
  
“After you’ve chained him to the same wall you put Mîkā’el on, so you can do the same things to him?” He glared as he slid gracefully into a combat stance. “I knew I couldn’t trust you.” 

_**Title Song:**_ [My Love Will Never Die](https://youtu.be/HX61lF9SY-Q) by Claire Wyndham 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title song is from the finale of season 4. 
> 
> God and the Devil: so close yet so far. 🚪
> 
> Elohim wants to make things right. 😥
> 
> Wait till He finds out what Zeri’s done this time. 😡⚡️
> 
> Chloe: 💔😭
> 
> Lucifer: 👿☠️
> 
> Sandi:😱😭🤬🤬🤜
> 
> Yep: another cliff hanger.  
Hope you guys aren’t afraid of heights,  
you may be up there for a bit.
> 
> Comments give my writing life. Love you all❤️


	51. Capture the Flag

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In case the title is confusing: Lucifer is the flag.

It was a hollowness. That was the only way he could describe it. Or a void, perhaps. Something was wrong. Something was missing. It reminded him of the visions he would get when Creation was trying to warn him of impending disaster. But it was just a feeling. Perhaps, with his wings taken, this was as close to a vision as he could get. A mere feeling that Creation was in danger...

No.

That wasn’t it.

This was different. More personal. It reminded him of... Feeling a tremor run through his body, he found his grip tightening around the demon’s midsection, and the joy he had been feeling from the rush of wind was gone.

“You freaking out back there?” Mazikeen asked.

Taking a deep breath to push away the shakiness, he leaned forward. “I think something is wrong with Sam.”

The bike slowed a moment before picking up again as the demon considered his words. “What, you got spider senses, now?” She demanded. 

“Spider, what?” What did spiders have to do with anything? As he asked this, a splash of cold hit his wrist. It was starting to rain. 

The demon made a noise that could have been a snort. “Never mind.” They didn’t say anything for a bit, and the rain increased, cold and heavy drops pelting them. 

“How much longer?” He was worried they were already too late to prevent Zerachiel from hurting his twin, but if they hurried, maybe they could still fix it. He had to believe they could fix it. He had to.

He missed his wings.

“Trip advisor said it would take eighteen hours, but we’re not following the rules, so maybe ten...” Ten hours? That was too long! “We’ve been on the road for about three, so seven more?” She sounded angry. Seven was better than ten, but still too long.

“Can you go faster?”

“Can you keep charming the cops when they pull us over for recklessly speeding in the rain?” She countered.

Two law enforcement officers had requested they “pull over” thus far, but when he explained the situation, they both decided that it was best to let them continue unhindered. If that was what she meant by charming them, “Yes, I think so.”

“Good.” Mazikeen chuckled about something as the bike accelerated. 

He hoped they would get there soon. And he wished he could stop time.

***

Lucifer’s lifeless body lay in the grass, blood still pooling around him. Sandalphon hadn’t felt this much rage in a long time. Zerachiel had been acting suspiciously, and now he knew why. It was one thing to torment Mîchael; he was the enemy. He had it coming. But to turn on the Lightbringer? 

Sandalphon could guess at several possible reasons for that. Zerachiel didn’t want to share his rule in Heaven with the true leader of the rebellion. Lucifer didn’t approve of Zerachiel’s plan to take freewill from humanity. Lucifer didn’t appreciate Zerachiel’s attitude. Looking around, he saw three humans - including Daniel - all of whom looked positively devastated, being held against their will. Sandalphon’s eyes wandered over the damage done to the mansion and the general surroundings… Half of the building was a crumbling mess, currently consumed by flames which were spreading rapidly. Lucifer had always been fiercely protective of those he cared about, and if he cared about these humans…  
  
His traitorous brother staggered to his feet, clearly struggling with injuries beyond what Sandalphon inflicted upon him, but that offered little comfort. Zerachiel wasn’t a threat because of his physical prowess. 

“You call me a traitor, when you’ve been working against me for a long time. I told you the only reason you’re still alive is because of how useful you are. But if that’s over with…” He motioned with his hand, and his servants turned to look at him. _“Kill Sandalphon.”_ He COMMANDED, and they, unable to disobey, charged.  
  
Sandalphon launched upward as they converged on the spot he had been in, and as one of his soldiers tried to follow, he turned mid-flight to crash into him, slamming him down into the bodies of two other warriors, leaving them incapacitated on the ground. Three more charged with weapons drawn, but Sandalphon wasn’t worried. He was the one who trained them. He knew their techniques and their weaknesses. But he also didn’t want to hurt them too badly. They were Lucifer’s soldiers, only acting this way because Zerachiel had stolen them.  
  
As he struggled to push them back, he noticed a group of humans coming from behind the burning building. They knelt by Lucifer’s body and started to wrap chains around the form of the Lightbringer, pulling his wings apart, spreading them, and producing a blade. Fury surged within him. He would not allow his twisted brother to take those wings. But as he advanced, he met a wall of enemies. Then, two humans intercepted them.  
  
Daniel, and a blond beauty plowed into them, sending them falling backward. They must’ve used the distraction to break free… and as the woman stood protectively over the Lightbringer, tears on her cheeks and fists trembling, he knew: these humans were Lucifer’s.  
  
“Don’t worry about cutting the wings off now, we can get them later.” Zerachiel ordered when he saw what was happening. Then he advanced on the vanquished ruler of Hell and the humans trying to protect his body.  
  
Having finally gotten past his enemies, Sandalphon tackled Zerachiel from the side, and the two went tumbling into the bramble, tearing through the fence in the process. As they landed in a tangle of arms legs and wings, he felt his left wing crack, and a now familiar pain ripped through his body. He cursed the fact that flying was going to be harder again as he brought his fist down on Zerachiel, who blocked and kicked out from under him. 

“I’m going to strangle you with your intestines!” Sandalphon shrieked as they continued to struggle, and he finally got his despicable brother pinned. 

Zerachiel’s eyes grew wide when he saw how serious he was. _“Assist me!” _More COMMANDS. Sandalphon reminded himself to rip out his tongue at the first opportunity, but before he could do anything, three warriors were on his back, causing further damage to his injured wing.  
  
It was madness for a while, but then, after he managed to get them off, he realized that Zerachiel slipped away. He looked frantically for his wretched brother, until he spotted him dragging Lucifer behind him, heading for the still burning mansion. The humans who had been trying to defend him were sprawled in the grass, being tackled by more warriors.

  
“No!” He charged, only to be swarmed again. There were too many. Normally he loved chaos, but right now, it was in the way.  
  
The human woman screamed as one dragged her along by the wrist. She struggled and kicked, and… in a moment of desperation, she fell back and used that to shift their weight, pulling him off balance, and as he stumbled, she kicked him in the face, her heal jamming into his right eye. In his alarm, his grip slackened and she broke free.  
  
She made a mad dash toward where Zerachiel was taking Lucifer, but then she was intercepted by Daniel. “We need to get away! We can’t fight him!” He was yelling.  
  
“What about Lucifer?” She sounded positively heartbroken.  
  
“Trust me, that bastard is not gonna like what he finds. We need to get Amenadiel or Michael or… Maze… Someone less human to deal with him.”  
  
That caught Sandalphon’s attention. Mîchael? Help Lucifer? Or Amenadiel? It seemed too ludicrous to entertain, but the woman seemed to understand, as if what he said somehow made sense… Sandalphon paused, assessing the situation, and tested his wing. It was in pain, but it might still fly.   
  
Turning his attention to the last of the three humans being hauled away, he made up his mind and changed his focus. There was considerably less resistance as he made his way toward the dark haired girl still being held. The bulk of Zerachiel’s forces were focused on keeping him away from the Lightbringer.  
  
As he approached, the human girl pulled back, her brown eyes wide with fear, followed instantly by rage. She spit at him as he came closer. He dodged one attacker and tossed another as he advanced. The warrior holding her tried to pull away, but he brought his good wing into his opponent’s side, cutting just deep enough to get a reaction, and as the warrior cried out, he took the dark haired girl in his hand and pulled her away.  
  
“Let me go, you hijo de la chingada!” She snapped, pulling back, kicking and struggling against his hold. He didn’t let go. She was important to Lucifer. Then he turned to the other two humans, and drawing her flush against his side, even as she continued to curse at him, he took flight and landed between them and the warriors. His wing strained at even that small leap.  
  
Zerachiel was already gone by now, and more than half of his forces with him. Those remaining were formidable… but reluctant. They knew he was being merciful with them. For now.  
  
“What’s more important? Guarding the mansion or bringing the humans?” He asked, almost bored.  
  
“Both?” One stated, looking ill at ease.  
  
“Well, you’re going to have to choose.” He laughed. They hesitated, drawing back, weapons raised, and in their hesitation, he whirled around, scooped up both other humans, and took off, carrying his kicking, cursing, screaming, and biting cargo with him. He ignored the indignation, in part because he couldn’t blame them. They thought he was the enemy. But mostly because his wing was killing him, and it was all he could think about.  
  
Feeling a very unsettling snap almost immediately after taking off, he half crashed into the bushes, just far enough away to have lost sight of the mansion, dropping the humans as he went down. His wing screamed at him, and he found drawing it back in harder than he would’ve liked, but once it was nicely tucked away, he found he couldn’t be bothered to get up. So there he lay, just trying not to think about the pain until he felt a stick poking him.  
  
“I’m not dead.” He snapped irritably, and he heard feet scurrying back.  
  
“Why did you help us?” He reluctantly looked up - the movement hurt - to see furious blue eyes, and for a brief moment, he thought they were Mîchael’s, but they belonged to Lucifer’s blond woman. She was kneeling in front of him and glaring.  
  
Forcing himself up to look at her better, he sighed. “Because I serve Lucifer.” He stated simply, then the black haired girl kicked him in the ribs. If she had been an angel, that would probably have hurt a lot. “You have a funny way of serving someone!” She growled, then, after a moment, “You’re Sandalphon, right? Did you hurt Michael?” She kicked again.  
  
He looked at her in confusion. “Many times. What of it?” He demanded, and all three humans balked at him.  
  
Daniel stepped up and after a quick glance his way, he shook his head. “I don’t think he realizes that Lucifer still loves him.”  
  
What? 

No. That was ridiculous. Mîchael stabbed him in the back… _literally!_ He dragged him before Father, broke his wings, and cast him into Hell. Lucifer_ hated _the Defender of Heaven. 

But a doubt was starting to take seed… it hadn’t taken long for him to learn that Mîchael felt guilt over what had happened… was it possible that the bond those two shared was stronger than the divide between Heaven and Hell? No. That was nonsense. Lucifer probably just saw an opportunity... Mîchael was useful, after all. _Especially _to the Lightbringer.  
  
The dark haired girl crouched so she could glare into his eyes directly, and spit at him… again with the spitting? Then she spoke, chillingly soft, and filled with hatred. “Well, let’s enlighten him.”  
  
***  
  
Zerachiel sighed as he passed through the doorway into the pocket universe, his finest warriors close behind. He knew it was only a matter of time… Sandalphon was a ticking time bomb, and he finally went off. But, aside from the aches and bruises... and fractured rib, it mattered very little. Glancing behind him, he smirked, feeling pleased with himself as his eyes fell on the lifeless Devil he was dragging behind him. He didn’t need Sandalphon anymore. The Lightbringer had power. The power to destroy things, the power to shape things… the power of _desire… _and with the Devil under his control, he may even be able to gain command over the Hoards of Hell.  
  
Even if his plan to lure Mîchael back to him failed, this might be enough to liberate the Silver City. And although Lucifer hadn’t made the Medallion, perhaps his light was similar enough to his twin’s that he could finally open the door to the pocket reality containing the sleeping Presence, so he could finally deal with Father. His mind was already racing, planning his next steps. 

First, he was going to remove those wings and put him on the wall, then he could try to use a few of Mîchael’s feathers to repair the body. Then he just needed to send a couple of his Fallen to retrieve his soul. It was a tedious way to resurrect someone, but it might work. He wondered what was happening to the soul of the Devil now. What torments greeted him upon arriving in Hell? Zerachiel smiled at the thought. But the smile dropped the instant he turned the corner.  
  
Father was sitting in his chair - the one he had fashioned to resemble a throne - and the humans and angels he had left to guard Him were all standing by His side, looking at Zerachiel accusingly. Stunned, his grip on the body lessened, and Lucifer’s empty shell fell to the floor with a dull thud.  
  
God’s eyes drifted down to take in the sight of His former favorite and He sighed, deeply upset. “So you decided it wasn’t enough to torment one twin. Now you’re after Samael as well? I thought you claimed to serve him. Or are we done with those pretenses, now?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ella said: Son of a Bitch
> 
> Sport’s Announcer voices
> 
> Bill: “Zeri has the flag, and it looks like it’s game over.”
> 
> Bob: “Ooh, that’s gotta hurt! Sandi just entered the mix,  
and it looks like it’s gonna be an all out fight!”
> 
> Bill: “I can’t believe it! And check it out, Bob,  
it appears team ‘human’ has upped their game, too.” 
> 
> Bob: “They sure did, Bill,  
it looks like they aren’t willing to give up just yet,  
but, oh, no! Zeri called all players to the field!”
> 
> Bill: “It’s chaos out there, ladies and gents!”
> 
> Bob: “Who will come out on top?”
> 
> Bill: “I don’t know, Bob,  
but Zeri’s playing one mean game,  
he is not giving up that flag!”
> 
> Bob: “But what’s this, Bill?  
A new player has entered the field?!
> 
> Bill: “That’s right, Bob, and Elohim is a champ,  
this is gonna be intense!”
> 
> Bob: “I’m on the edge of my seat!  
What a game! What a game!”


	52. We’re All Mad Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elohim V Zerachiel! Raziel is actually kinda tragic. Amenadiel finally checks his phone.

Zerachiel looked at Samael again, then he turned his harsh glare back on Elohim, clearly insulted by the accusation._ “I _was not pretending anything. I’m still fighting for the freedom of our brothers and sisters, _he’s _the traitor!” He growled advancing and motioning for his soldiers to spread out.  
  
“Really?” Elohim raised an eyebrow. Samael changing his mind about freewill was one of Zerachiel’s more absurd delusions. “And you don’t think enslaving all of humanity has anything to do with why he may not agree with you?” His son pulled back as if the words were a slap to his face, then he motioned for his angels to stop circling.  
  
“This has nothing to do with that! He stopped fighting altogether. He never cared if the rest of us were free. All he wanted was HIS freedom, and accumulating power for _himself!”_  
  
Elohim sighed. That didn’t sound like his Lightbringer at all. “Selfish for power? Are you sure you’re not talking about yourself? He never wanted Hell, and he hates the responsibility that comes with too much power.”  
  
Zerachiel advanced, growing angry again. “Really, Father! How dense can you get? This isn’t about _Hell, _this is about _Mîchael!” _Then he motioned for his soldiers to attack, apparently done with his rant. Elohim shook His head as He watched the angels converging on their own. But Zerachiel was still wearing the medallion, and He could feel His power calling to Him. And His foolish son still had no clue.  
  
He wasn’t sure what He could do, exactly, but when He sensed Zerachiel reaching out to subdue those who were recently liberated - to reclaim their will - the Creator reached out as well, feeling the divinity flowing into and through Him, and extending His intent outward, He focused on releasing them all.  
  
The humans and angels all came to a stop and dropped to their knees, hands flying to their heads, and crying out. Oh, dear. That didn’t go quite right. Zerachiel and Elohim both released their hold and looked at one another accusingly.  
  
“You’re hurting them!” Zerachiel accused, wings fanning out and fists clenching.  
  
“Trying to protect them from your influence, more like. But yes, it seems that we hurt them. This is on both of us, son.” He countered.  
  
Zerachiel stared, then, apparently finally realizing he had a brain, he glanced down at the medallion, to see it faintly shimmering, and understanding set in. “You’re using it!?!” He gawked for a moment before he grew even angrier. “YOU freed Daniel! I thought my power was failing me, but it was _you!” _His eye twitched at the revelation. “Fine. We can leave the pawns out of it until I’ve dealt with you.” And he charged.  
  
Oops.

His human vessel was no match for an archangel. Thinking quickly, He dodged behind the tacky throne His silly child had built, and Zerachiel’s wing embedded into the arm rest as he tried to slice into Him.  
  
“What happened to taking care of my human vessel?” God taunted from behind the chair.  
  
“I’ll fix the body later! Dealing with you is more important!”  
  
“Oh, then why haven’t you brought Sandi along? He’s much better at this stuff than you!” He challenged, suspecting he already knew the answer. As He spoke, He eased around the chair, keeping it as a barrier while the archangel tried to get at Him.  
  
Zerachiel twitched. “That traitor isn’t working for me anymore.” Around them, the angels and humans whose minds had just been double whammied started to groan and curl in on themselves. Elohim had to do something about that. They didn’t deserve to be in pain. But Zerachiel was coming around the throne to grab at Him again, and He couldn’t focus.  
  
Leaping back, He shot an amused glance at him. “Let me guess, he saw what you did to Samael, and he didn’t approve? That boy has _always _admired him… obsessively so. If I remember, he wanted him to be the angel of music.” He smirked as he dodged backward from another of Zerachiel’s attacks. As long as He could out maneuver him, He had a chance…  
  
He really didn’t want to hurt His child… but… the boy was misbehaving rather ostentatiously. Elohim remembered spotting a weaponry on the other side of the door.  
  
Zerachiel snarled. “Yeah, the idiot is too narrow-minded.”  
  
“So let me get this straight. Everyone who disagrees with you is either a traitor, a tyrant, being mind-controlled, or an idiot?” He skipped back, inching toward the doorway.  
  
His son twitched again, “More or less.” Then he launched himself and landed in front of the door, blocking Elohim’s exit, apparently catching on. Blast! That complicated things.  
  
One of the humans started to whimper, and Elohim couldn’t take it. He _had _to fix this. Focusing outward, He willed His poor creations to sleep, drawing energy from the medallion again, and Zerachiel possessively curled his hands around it, not that this made any difference.  
  
“Stop using it!” He exclaimed. “You manipulative bastard!” He charged again as he raved.  
  
Elohim danced out of range again. “You aren’t very good at this.” He teased.  
  
“Never needed to be. But I don’t have to be better than you, I just have to outlast you.” He sneered, swinging his fists and slicing at him with his wings. “Is your vessel getting tired yet?” He laughed, attacking again. Elohim jumped back, realizing, much to His dismay, that the boy was right. His vessel was getting tired. As He dodged another attack, He spared a glance at Samael. Perhaps, if He could get to him…  
  
He knew Samael was not likely to want to help Him, but he would most likely be furious with Zerachiel. Mind made up, He rushed over to His son, but as He knelt at his side, Zerachiel finally got Him, bringing his wing into His side, cutting deeply.  
  
Elohim fell back, clutching at the open wound and feeling faint. He dove behind a pillar and focused on healing, as Zerachiel grabbed the body and dragged him off.  
  
“You’re a fool if you think I’ll let _you _resurrect the Devil.” He spat. 

In a move to distract His son, He reached His will toward the skies. As He learned earlier, His aim wasn’t very good, but it didn’t need to be. Elohim felt storm clouds gathering outside and in an instant, lightning was lancing down and tearing into the building.  
  
***  
  
It started out innocently enough. 

She was just trying to fix the broken system. She knew she wasn’t the only one to see the flaws. Undeserving psychopaths finding their way to Heaven because they were free of guilt and innocents suffering for an eternity in Hell because they blamed themselves for the wrongdoings of others. And while Mîchael could exile the undeserving easily enough, Lucifer couldn’t do anything for the unfortunate innocents. 

Guilt, it seemed, was easier to acquire than shed off. 

And Father never lifted a finger to fix it. Raziel knew she wasn’t the only one who saw it. She wasn’t the only one to notice things slowly falling apart, but suggesting that Father’s Plan was flawed was just not done. 

Until Uriel came to her. 

He had seen it, too. They discussed the slow collapse, and he said it could be fixed, but he needed her help. At first, it was little things. _“Move the crystal sculptures in the library,” “suggest studying human warfare to Zadkiel.” _Then one day, he asked her to withhold a prayer. It went against Father’s instructions, but the prayer was inconsequential, so she did it. Over time, his instructions became more and more questionable, but she kept reminding herself that it was for a good cause. 

When he came to her, saying he made contact with Zerachiel and Sandalphon, she was completely sidelined. He told her to keep their discussions secret from everyone, and she did. Like before, it started innocently enough. Until...

_“You can’t do this, Uriel! This is wrong!”_

_“You needn’t worry about Mîchael, sister. Zerachiel idolizes him, he won’t mistreat him. This is necessary to fix things.” He replied calmly. _

_Raziel hesitated. It was true, everyone knew how much Zerachiel admired Mîchael before the rebellion, but.... “Even so, I can’t....”_

_Uriel sighed. “Then everything we’ve done thus far will have been for nothing. When everything is revealed, neither of us will get out of this unscathed and the system will crumble. Is that what you want?”_

Raziel sometimes wondered if Mîchael knew where they were keeping him. Did he try to pray for help, not realizing that he had left Father’s creation behind, not knowing his words wouldn’t get through? What might he have said, how many brothers and sisters did he try to reach? She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answers to those questions.

And for a while, she could fool herself. But then Uriel was destroyed, and it was up to her to see his pattern fulfilled. So she decided to check in on Zerachiel, but what she found was not what Uriel promised. 

Mîchael was completely unresponsive. Zerachiel insisted it was Sandalphon’s doing. Zerachiel seemed to be as upset about it as she was. He seemed to care. By the time she found out what had really been going on...

Raziel sighed. She was well past the point of no return, and if she didn’t see this through, Mîchael’s suffering would be for nothing. She couldn’t let that happen.

Lucifer’s prayer to her from earlier resounded in her mind again, echoing with unwanted truth. _“I know your dirty little secret. I know your lies.” _He was right. 

It was a filthy rotten secret. 

And now Zerachiel was out of control. It was Lucifer’s fault, though. Everything was fine when Uriel was around to keep everyone in line. 

Raziel made her way to the basement of the cabin. Her sister was trusted up with stolen chains, already awake, and furious as she descended.  
  
“Remiel?” Raziel started tentatively.  
  
“Traitor!” She spit back. “How could you?”  
  
“Please, let me explain.” She implored, stepping forward.  
  
Remiel jostled her chains and glared at her. “I don’t have much choice, do I?” She remarked icily.  
  
“I’ll let you go, I promise, just...” Remiel raised an eyebrow and intensified her glare. “Uriel came to me because we both saw that Father’s system was crumbling.”  
  
“Uriel was a traitor, too.” She snarled.  
  
“No, he wasn’t! Everything we did was for the Greater Good!”

Remiel shook her head and pulled against her restraints. “It was never his place to decide that! What Greater Good could possibly be gained by letting Zerachiel use and torture our Commander?”

“Mîchael isn’t just our Commander, he’s been acting as Father’s replacement, don’t you see? He and Lucifer have been doing Father’s job, but it’s too much for them.” Raziel tried to explain.

“So you punish them for failing Father?” More struggling.

“No! Mîchael wasn’t supposed to suffer...”

“Says the traitorous sister who chose to work with our clearly deranged brothers.” Remi’s words cut, and Raziel almost turned to leave, feeling the knife of guilt twisting in her gut. She was right. Zerachiel and Sandalphon were both insane.

“I’m not working with them... I’m _using _them... or _Uriel _was. But... Lucifer killed him, and I can’t control...”

Remiel laughed. It was a cold, heartless sound. “Don’t tell me you’re blaming the _Devil _for your sins! Lucifer is many things: irresponsible, impulsive, slutty... but he isn’t responsible for everything everyone else does. Least of all, you!”  
  
Raziel shrank back. “I…”  
  
“Forget it, sister. If you were expecting me to take your side, I’d rather stay here and rot!” The Angel of Secrets fell back, crushed. She really hoped Remiel would understand, but if she couldn’t…  
  
“Very well, sister.” And she turned to leave, feeling tears sting her eyes.   
  
“Raziel.” A voice glowered from up the stairs, and Raziel felt her blood grow cold. Amenadiel stepped forward, a small shadow demon at his heals sniffing intently. “It’s time you atoned for your sins.” The Fist of God advanced, a silent fury bubbling just below the Surface.  
  
“Brother!” Raziel exclaimed in disbelief. “How did you?”  
  
“This one found the scent of the Huntress in these lovely shadows! The Mighty Fallen Archangel will be pleased!” The demon cheered, and she found herself gaping.  
  
Amenadiel used a demon?  
  
“Yes, Luci will be very pleased with you.” Amenadiel replied. “You can go now.” He handed the creature a Pentecostal coin, and it happily vanished.  
  
“Amenadiel!” Remiel called up from where she was bound. “I’m sorry, brother. I have failed you.”  
  
Raziel noticed his attention drift to their sister and she tried to use the distraction to flee, but as she made her escape, he grabbed her by the wing. Raziel yelped, feeling assaulted and violated as he yanked her backward, causing her to stumble. Amenadiel’s expression was cold, almost menacing, as she shrank back from him.  
  
Then he turned to address Remiel, his features softening. “No, Remi. You found the traitors.”  
  
“Thank you, brother.”  
  
“Please…” Raziel pleaded. “It hurts…”  
  
The first born looked at her contemptuously. “Lucifer is better at this than me.” Amenadiel began, “But I know he appreciates a good ironic twist. Does this feel _wrong, _sister? Do you feel _violated?” _He pulled her closer, expression growing stormy. “Imagine that feeling, only indescribably worse, imagine facing it every day...” He threw her down the stairs, and she landed at Remiel’s feet. “For _six years!” _Raziel shrieked as she scrambled to right herself, but he was on top of her again, lifting her as she struggled.  
  
Terror mingled with shame. She deserved this, and more. She knew she did. But facing judgement terrified her. As her heart hammered and her mind reeled, she felt Amenadiel taking the keys from her belt. She heard Remiel being released. She didn’t even put up a fight when she felt the chains being attached to her as she sobbed.

Then, through blurry eyes, she saw her brother and sister turning to leave... 

No! She didn’t want to be alone!

“Wait!” She exclaimed. They didn’t acknowledge her. Frantically, she searched for something - _anything_ \- to keep them from leaving, and she remembered Ella Lopez’s odd string of prayers directed toward Amenadiel that morning. “What does ‘Malcolm’ mean!?” She tried.

Amenadiel turned, eyes wide. Then his expression grew even sharper then before. But he didn’t say anything. He just turned again, leaving the basement in a hurry, and as the door closed, darkness settled in around her.

***

Amenadiel and Remiel landed in Lucifer’s penthouse to find it quiet and dark. “Hello?” He called out in a near panic. He had only been gone a few hours... What happened?

Ding!

“Your canvas leggings made a noise.” Remiel observed, pointing at his pocket, even as he fished out his phone. 

“It’s a communication device, Remi.” He explained as he touched the screen and it filled up with missed text messages. Alarmed, he unlocked it to find he had one email, 21 missed texts from Chloe, and 5 from Linda. He went to Linda’s first.  
_  
“Is Michael with you?  
Never mind. Trixie said he left with Maze  
please call me  
Please call, I’m really worried. Are you okay?  
I’m worried no one thought this through. Please call as soon as you can.”_

Remi looked over his shoulder and nodded. “We need something like that for the Silver City.” She decided. Amenadiel nodded, feeling dazed as he went to Chloe’s messages, desperately hoping that her texts would help make Linda’s more clear, and dreading what they might say. 

_“Hey, Amenadiel?  
Check your email.  
Sorry I’ve been mad at you...  
it’s just been weird... I need your help  
Ella told me about the prayer code word  
Malcolm  
I get that you’re sorry, but that’s probably not going to work  
I think modern technology is our best bet  
So I’m texting you  
We are going to need back up  
Dan asked us to meet him at 9:00.  
It’s probably a trap  
maybe not  
But I’m going in. Ella too  
We need you. Please text or call  
We’re here.  
Where are you?  
I’m going to wait a few minutes.  
I’m going in  
Malcolm  
Malcolm”  
_  
Amenadiel’s head was reeling, his heart was pounding, and he felt frozen. Chloe and Ella left to face Zerachiel, and he wasn’t there to back them up... he failed them, and now...

“What’s an email?” Remi asked as she read his messages with interest.

“What?”

“She slipped in ‘check your email’ without explanation. That means she’s trying to hide something. The ‘email’ is important.” Her brow was scrunched up, calculating.

Eager for a ray of hope, he pulled it up on his phone. And found a message from “Penelo.P.D69@gmail.com”. Chloe’s mother was emailing him? Confused, he tapped on it to see what it was.

_“Hey, it’s Chloe, I’m using Mom’s email so Zerachiel won’t find this if he gets my phone. Its Trojan Horse time: I included all the documents I gathered while investigating. You should look them over, but since that may not be enough, I have one of the GPS tracking devices I got for Trixie after the incident at the Mayan on me._

_Download the app I’m linking you. It relies on satellites, so it usually works even where cellphones don’t. If you need help figuring it out, ask Maze or Linda. They both know how to use it._

_I’ll try not to get caught, but if that doesn’t work, use the GPS and bring Maze or anyone else you think you can count on. But please don’t tell Lucifer. If he knows what I’m doing, he’ll try to fix this himself, and we agreed he needs to stay with Michael._

_I hope you understand. I couldn’t leave Dan in their hands, not after what they did to Michael.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we know what Remi and Menny were doing when Chloe and Ella needed them.  
Next step: figuring out the technology bit. 🤨
> 
> Me: Writing about Raz being manipulated: 🥺  
Also me: Writing about her getting what she deserved: 😠🤜😇 ... 😀
> 
> Elohim has poor aim with lightning... but it’s still lightning! 😂⚡️


	53. Diminuendo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amenadiel is not a robot. Maze and Michael reach their destination.

Remiel looked down upon the land known as Washington with interest, while Amenadiel retrieved his communication device. As her eldest brother messed with the piece of human technology he had so much faith in, she tried to be helpful by looking for “Mount Baker” but there were so _many_ mountains!

She huffed irritably. They were supposed to be helping, but ever since her rescue, it seemed they were doing anything but.

At first, she suggesting getting Gabriel involved, but Amenadiel insisted it would be more useful to know where to lead him beforehand. She had to admit there was logic to that, so she agreed. But then, she was forced to endure an excruciating encounter with his human mate and their minuscule offspring. Then she had to wait for her brother to complete an involved ritual, in order to get the “app installed” and “permission” to use it. Then, finally they left, only to get stuck again.

As she glanced his way, she heard Amenadiel talking... to himself?

“Right... So these things aren’t designed for traveling this fast... Let me just put my thumb here... Ah! ... Wait, what? ... No. ... I’m not a robot. ... Crosswalks? I can do that. ... What? I already told you, I’m not a robot!”

Flying up, she peered over his shoulder to see him tapping furiously at little square pictures. “Should I just get Gabriel?”

“No, not yet. I can do this, just give me a moment.” He sounded annoyed.

Remiel wanted to protest, but then he kept talking. “We don’t know how long it’ll take to get back. Time flows differently in the Silver City, and I can’t wait around for you.”

“Very well, brother.” She relented begrudgingly, and so she waited as the first of Father’s angels tried to prove to an object that he wasn’t a robot. “I changed my mind.” she grumbled. “We _don’t_ need these in the Silver City.”

***  
_  
Mîchael landed by the edge of the water after following the signature of his twin’s light. It was dark, and the sound of the waves played a soothing melody as a backdrop to calm his nerves. He had chosen to touch down a ways back, far enough to stay hidden, not wanting to startle Samael... not sure how well he would be received.   
  
Scanning the beach, he spotted his brother with the demon, Mazikeen behind him. Mîchael was not sure about the wisdom of bringing her to Earth, especially if, as Amenadiel said, he planned to stay. He would have to keep an eye on things... but this was not the reason for his visit. He was there to... he hesitated.  
  
Why was he doing this?  
  
Samael told him never to come back. To Hell. The mortal plain wasn’t Hell... so maybe... maybe it was neutral ground. The Defender of Heaven felt a lump forming in his throat. He knew perfectly well that this may be a mistake... but he had to try. _

_Tentatively, he made to take a step toward his lost twin, but he found himself stuck when he saw Samael kneeling in the sand, his brilliant wings unfurling behind him. As much as he missed the sight of them, Mîchael couldn’t help but worry. Then the demon lifted a hell forged blade in her hand. She grabbed one of the wings and started cutting.  
  
She was cutting it off!  
  
His first instinct was to rush to his twin’s aid, but then he saw his brother’s light shift.  
  
Defiance. Rage. Self-loathing... and a drop of hope.  
  
Mîchael’s heart stuttered and he felt the threat of tears edging in as his breath caught in his throat. Samael was mutilating himself. He would rather cut off his wings - his beautiful shining wings - than associate with Heaven... with his family... with Mîchael. A slight tremor started and the familiar ache in his chest amplified. _

_No! _

_Feelings like this were useless. Angry with himself, he closed his eyes and forced the emotions back down where they belonged.  
  
By the time he opened them again, the first wing lay in the sand and the second was hanging at an odd angle. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he found himself backing up. Without even approaching his brother, he got the answer he needed.  
  
His twin didn’t want to see him, and he never would. Unfurling his wings from a safe distance, Saint Mîchael left Samael behind and returned to the Silver City, feeling more alone than ever._  
  
“Yo! You awake?” Mazikeen’s voice pulled him from his thoughts, and he startled. He hadn’t quite been asleep, but he was starting to drift. Feeling embarrassed that he had gotten so comfortable on the strange vehicle with his arms wrapped around a demon, he stiffened, hand gripping tighter to Miss Alien.  
  
“Awake…” He confirmed, pulling his head up from where it had lolled onto the back of her shoulder. Looking around, he saw the darkness weighing thick around them, the single beam of light illuminating fluffy white precipitation lazily drifting down and swirling around them as they traveled through it. Snow. He had almost forgotten snow was a thing. He marveled at how lovely the gentle coating on the ground was. They were riding passed open fields and sparsely scattered human dwellings, now… and with a chill, he realized they were almost there.  
_  
He ran. Too weak to trust his wings to carry him, he stumbled and gasped for breath, every part of him aching, crying out in agony._  
  
“Right, and you drool when you’re awake. That a fetish?” The demon teased.  
  
Drool? “I don’t droll.” He grumbled, and the demon laughed at him.  
  
“Uh-huh. So it was some other angel slobbering all over my back.” She retorted. He didn’t feel like pointing out it was probably tears... “We’re getting close.” She informed. She didn’t have to tell him. Even with the dusting of snow, he knew this road.   
_  
It was a lonely winding path in the middle of nowhere, and after a while, he spotted a gravel parking lot next to the river._

She slowed down, giving him a chance to scan the scenery. As he watched the side of the road, he spotted a familiar bush, broken from when he had run passed it.  
_  
He found a road and started down it, glancing furtively behind him every so often._  
  
“There.” He pointed to the spot, and Mazikeen pulled over, turning off the bike. Then, as they dismounted, she hefted it up, and followed him into the brush a ways before depositing it on its side, well out of sight from the road.  
  
He had told himself he wasn’t going back… But he couldn’t just stand by and let others suffer for him. He had to do this. Squaring his shoulders and forcing back a tremor, he started to run, making his way back the way he had come. Mazikeen ran at his side, keeping pace, and he was relieved to have her with him. A sharp pain pierced his gut at the realization.  
  
He was grateful to a demon.  
  
A demon.  
  
He _killed _demons. And it never bothered him. They were soulless, after all. Evil beasts who tormented his twin whenever they could, made sport of humans, and delighted in the agony of others. Destroying them was the logical thing to do.  
  
But…  
  
Mazikeen didn’t act like an evil, soulless monster. Maybe a little vicious, and capable of wickedness… but he knew what evil was... she wasn’t it. At the thought, he found himself slowing to look her way.  
  
Mazikeen stopped to stare back, an almost… concerned look on her face. Demons didn’t get concerned… or he thought they didn’t. How naive he had been. How many did he destroy, how many didn’t deserve it? He wondered. They were preying on humans, but...  
  
Without his wings he couldn’t see the light of other beings, and he knew this was how almost everyone else saw Creation, but he felt blind without them. Still… like this, Mazikeen looked just like everyone else.  
  
“What?” the demon snapped at him when she got tired of him staring at her. Blinking, he pulled himself from his thoughts..  
  
“I… um… I’m sorry. For killing so many of your kind.” He managed pathetically. Her eyebrows shot up, then she rolled her eyes.  
  
“They were assholes anyway. They had it coming.” She shrugged, turning to continue, but when he didn’t move, she turned around again, heaving an annoyed groan.  
  
“Now is really not the time for you to get all sentimental. We have to save Lucifer and the others, remember?” She exasperated.   
  
“Inanna told me that demons were a product of their environment.” He reminisced, starting to walk again, still lost in thought.  
  
“Astaroth?” Mazikeen demanded, more curious now. “Actually, I have a question about that. Why didn’t you kill her like the rest?”  
  
He remembered the incident well, and he couldn’t help but smile. The demon had been one of the first to find her way onto Earth, and she had wasted no time in establishing herself as a ‘Goddess.’ She was fiercely protective of her followers, and enjoyed all the pleasures that came with being worshipped. He remembered the humans pleading with him, begging for her life. “She wasn’t doing any harm.” He shrugged. Mazikeen gaped at him as he started to run again. Then glancing over his shoulder, he motioned at the demon. “You’re falling behind, Mazikeen of the Lilim.” He teased.  
  
She started to run as well, catching up and shaking her head. “That’s the reason? She wasn’t doing any harm?” He could hear her snort… but his mind was already wandering again as he retraced his steps.  
_  
He didn’t stop when the bushes slapped his face, which was already in so much pain, or when his bare feet found a root, or a rock._  
  
As they ran, the forest became more and more white with snow, bright even in the dark of night, transforming it into something frozen, strange, and beautiful… but he still knew the way. He could never forget it.   
_  
He didn’t stop after he slipped silently out of the strange, quiet building. He didn’t stop after he crossed the fence and vanished into the forest._

There it was, peaking through the trees. It was smoldering and falling apart, the lawn a torn up mess quickly vanishing in whiteness, but it was there. He was back.

And suddenly, he couldn’t breathe...  
  
***  
  
Shit.  
  
Mîchael came to an abrupt stop, eyes wide and body trembling. _Broken._ He was broken. And Maze brought him right back into the viper pit. As his legs gave out and he sank into the snow, she rushed to his side. She needed to get him to snap out of it before anything spotted them. But as she reached him, she saw movement in the bushes.  
  
“This is unexpected.” A zombie angel sneered as he approached. “The boss knew he would come back for his twin, but we didn’t expect him so soon.”  
  
Maze stepped in front of Mîchael. Shit! Shit! Shit! Glancing behind her, she saw him grasping Miss Alien to his chest and gasping. “You’re not getting him.” She snarled. “Where’s Lucifer?”  
  
“Boss has him.” Came the casual remark from another bastard coming from her left, this one had leathern wings.  
  
Maze was about to threaten them, but in that moment, the thicket erupted as enemies charged from all sides, and she growled as she rushed to meet them. There were probably around fifty, and these were not the same pushovers she faced before. She knew immediately from the way they expertly circled around, drawing various divine weapons with ease. These were Zerachiel’s elite warriors.  
  
But fine. She was worth a hundred of them, anyway. She drew her demon blades as she dodged one attacker and sliced into the wing of another, but before she put too much distance between herself and her broken charge, she leapt back. Doing so made her a sitting target, though.  
  
He needed to pull himself together. Fast.

Four more came at her. Two had swords, one had a staff and another wielded a set of daggers. They moved on her as one, but she managed to drive them back. “That all you got?” She challenged.  
  
In answer, a firing gun shattered the night, and a sharp blinding white pain ripped into her gut. Gasping, she fell forward, catching herself with her arms as her blood colored the snow.   
  
“Don’t waste your time with divine weapons. She’s just a demon.” She heard one of them saying in a bored tone, and she was vaguely aware of a rifle pointing her way. Damn. This was bad. Maze forced herself to stand. If this was going to be it for her, she wanted to face her demise on her feet. 

She roared at the angels and braced herself for impact, when suddenly the one leveling the firearm was being propelled off his feet as Mîchael charged into him, snatching the weapon from his grip, and crushing it. Her assailant collided with a tree, cracking it hard enough for it to come crashing down.  
  
The archangel’s eyes were blazing as he faced them. He was still shaking, but whether this was from fear or rage, she couldn’t tell. There was something feral - instinctive, even - about the way he moved as they converged on him. He slid out of reach of one’s attack, grabbing his arm and twisting it so it broke with practiced ease, then he pulled another in to use as a shield against the attack of a third. He dispatched them with their own weapons, his movements ridiculously fast and precise, like a predator taking down hapless prey.

Feeling lightheaded, she found herself going down again, coughing up blood and trembling. At least she knew Mîchael was going to get through this. But then he was at her side, worried eyes roaming over her injury.  
  
Without saying a word, he placed Miss Alien in her hand, then he held both of of his over the bullet wound, eyes closing in concentration. Two angels came at him, but Maze wasn’t completely out of the game. As they drew close, she threw one of her blades into the first, smirking triumphantly as it embedded itself between the eyes. The second pulled back in alarm. 

Then her world was transformed by pain. A cold fire spread through her entire being and a flash of blue cut into her. She gasped, feeling sweat bead off her brow. Then the pain vanished as a strange itching tingle spread across the wound, and just like that, it was gone.  
  
She had no idea he could do that for a demon. Laughing with newfound vitality, she jumped up, and handing Miss Alien back, she offered their attackers a nasty sneer, dropping her human appearance to reveal the visage of death covering half her face.  
  
The snow was peppered with red splashes of blood, and about ten of them were already down. They looked a lot less confident now as the archangel and the demon faced them together. Their fear was delicious.  
  
“What? Don’t wanna play anymore?” She jeered as one stepped back nervously.   
  
Then, as if they’d done it countless times before, they charged as one. Maze reclaimed her blade and Miss Alien was passed between them while they performed a deadly dance through the enemy ranks. The snow turned crimson, and soon, there was no one left to kill. 

Maze turned toward Mîchael in wonder as the last warrior fell. He was breathing deeply, covered in blood… and he still had Miss Alien in his hand. The demon snorted. There wasn’t even one drop of blood on the toy.  
  
“There’s something over there.” He pointed into the bushes, and guardedly, Maze made her way over to see a lump in the snow. After brushing off the top, she recognized it as a backpack. Opening it, she found Dan’s wallet, his gun, and camping supplies. She picked up the gun, remembering the red pouch Duma had given her.

Looking up, she saw Mîchael in the opening by the building, kicking snow aside and looking intently at the markings in the ground. “What is it?”  
  
“There was a fight here.” He commented. Then his eyes grew wide and he glanced up as he started to jog into the woods again.  
  
“Hay!” Maze exclaimed, pocketing the gun and running to catch up. “What are you doing?”  
  
“An angel took flight from there, launching in this direction.” His voice was thick with hope and worry as he ran.  
  
“Lucifer?” She asked from behind him. He didn’t answer, he just ran… but then, she caught the scent of human and angel, and she took the lead.  
  
“They’re this way.” She declared, and he matched pace behind her as they crashed through the frozen forest. Drawing close, she sensed movement, then Ella jumped out at them, swinging a stick frantically. Maze caught it and the scientist’s eyes grew wide with disbelief.  
  
“Maze? Michael!” Maze grinned. But then the human was throwing her arms around her in a desperate embrace. Realizing she still had her demon form on display, she quickly changed back, once again impressed by Ella’s lack of fear. Then the human was letting go and wrapping her arms around Mîchael. As she hugged him, Maze spotted Chloe and Dan by a pitiful attempt at a fire… and…

What the Hell?  
  
The same angel she had been hunting all this time was leaning on a tree, curled up as if in pain.  
  
“Lucifer… He… Zerachiel killed him.” Ella sobbed.

  
  
  
**_Song Title:_** [Diminuendo](https://youtu.be/4eTXIDAarx8) by Lawless, featuring Britt Warner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Imperium for introducing me to the title song. ❤️
> 
> _Hangs reader over the edge of a cliff._  
“The view is amazing, isn’t it!” 🤪
> 
> Amenadiel doesn’t understand technology. 😂  
Final flashback of the story. Poor Mi. 🥺  
But BAMF! Maze and Mi! Huzzah!!! 😃  
P.S. flashbacks from chapter 2 were fun to include. We’re making a full circle, now. 😉
> 
> Thanks for reading!  
👁 ❤️ 🗣! 👁❤️👉!


	54. Faeces Ventilatrum Pellunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The title translates from Latin to “the shit hit the fan,” and OMD! This chapter! It really does.

Chloe stared in disbelief as Ella embraced their friends. They were at the edge of the light when she shared the bad news and Michael visibly staggered before seeming to tuck his feelings away. Maze fumed as her eyes locked onto Sandalphon, who still sat by the fire, staring angrily into the flames.

As they came closer, she noticed that they were both covered in blood. Seeing Michael like that brought forth the memory of Lucifer laying lifeless at the end of a sword and she suddenly found breathing difficult. Dan put his hand reassuringly on her shoulder as she sniffed and forced back her tears.  
  
“Don’t worry, as soon as Lucifer’s Dad returns to Heaven, He’ll fix everything.” He reassured. Chloe rubbed her eyes and laughed wetly as she nodded, still unable to put into words her feelings about everything Dan had been telling them. God. He was chummy with God. The guy who kicked Lucifer out of Heaven and used Michael to do it. How could He be anything but a complete asshole? 

Ella had been eager to accept that there was a good explanation for it, but she had questions. They all did, actually. And with nothing but time on their hands as they waited for the cavalry to arrive, they talked. Chloe talked about Trixie fighting monsters, Dan told her about Celestial dad jokes and a different universe, and everyone told Sandalphon where he could shove it every time he said “Mîkā’el” was the enemy. No one had expected it to get dark before help arrived, or for it to start snowing. They were starving and beyond cold, and they started running through their options when the two found them.

Chloe expected Maze... but with Amenadiel. Frustrated, she pulled the GPS tracker from inside her bra to check if it was working... it was. But she hardly had a chance to address her question, because in that moment, Sandalphon’s eyes locked onto Michael, who stopped in his tracks, eyes growing wide.

Suddenly forgetting about his injuries, Sandalphon was advancing. Michael seemed to be frozen in place, his hand tightening on Miss Alien and breaths coming in jagged bursts. This was exactly why Chloe had tried not to involve him. As she moved to intercept, Maze flew at the menacing taller angel, taking him down with surprising fierceness as she whipped out her blades, face contorted into a savage snarl. As she tackled him, a single wing erupted into view and slashed into her back and before anyone knew what was happening, they were a tumbling snarling mess of feathers and limbs.

“Get off me! He’s the enemy!” Sandalphon roared.

_“You’re_ the enemy!” Maze countered.

Ella was rushing to Michael’s side, while Chloe and Dan rushed to try to... they hesitated. Sandalphon saved them, but he was also criminally insane, and she was learning quickly that is was better not to get in the middle of a throw down between supernatural beings.

“Mazikeen, stop!” Michael’s voice caught their attention. Maze glared. Sandalphon sneered.

“Why should I?” Maze practically shouted, before turning to seethe at her target. “I’ll _kill_ him for everything he’s done!

“You, too? I know humans can’t resist his aura, but you’re a _demon!”_ Sandalphon exclaimed, pushing her off only for her to tackle him again, and they were back at it.

“I told you! Attack my friends, you die!” She tore into his face with a blade.

“If you protect him, you’re a _traitor!”_ His wing slashed into her thigh.

“You think Lucifer _wants _him to be tortured?” She head butted him.

Suddenly, Michael was on top of them both, surprising everyone as he slammed his palm into Sandalphon’s windpipe and pushed Maze back. His eyes were blazing an electric blue and his body was trembling. Sandalphon gagged and fell back, exhausted and busted up, eyes locked onto Michael with pure hatred even as they teared. Then Michael’s hands clapped his ears, disorienting him further, before he slammed his head into the snow covered ground. A white cloud of frozen powder puffed up before settling around him where he lay face down in the snow, with one brown wing splayed out at his side.

“See?” Maze smirked as she stood up, brushing snow off her pants. “Murder angel.”

Chloe and the others gawked. Ella was the first to snap out of it. “Did you just kill him?” 

“No. Not yet.” His voice was barely more than a whisper.

“You think he might be useful, or something?” Dan asked cautiously, taking a tentative step back. Chloe didn’t blame him.

A slight nod was the only response they got as he backed up, hugging Miss Alien to his chest, and for a moment, no one spoke, until someone’s - definitely not Chloe’s - stomach started the make loud noises. 

“Damn, Decker! When’s the last time you ate?” 

“That wasn’t me!” she protested, only to hear another gurgle - okay, that was definitely her - “Right... um... This morning. I had a bowl of cereal.”

Maze chuckled.

“Yeah, we’re all crazy starved, but what can you do, right?” Ella contributed.

“Dan’s backpack was loaded with snacks. They might be frozen, but food’s food.” Maze offered as she went to inspect the busted up Sandalphon, a nasty grin stretching her lips.

“You found my backpack?” 

Michael nodded, then he turned to head back the way they came, motioning for them to follow, which they all did. Except for Maze.

“You go ahead. I’m gonna stick around and make sure the torture angel doesn’t go anywhere.” She kicked him to emphasize her point. 

Chloe turned back, worried about her ex roommate. She had cuts and bruises everywhere. But she looked better off than he did. “Are you gonna be okay?” 

Maze rolled her eyes. “Demon, remember?” Then, as if remembering something, she strutted over to her, crowding into her personal space, and Chloe felt her press something into her hands. Looking down, she saw a department issued gun and a red pouch. “Six shots, make em count.” She explained unhelpfully before returning to plop by their struggling fire.

Hesitating, Michael turned and headed over to Maze to offer Miss Alien to her. “She doesn’t belong where we’re going.” He explained softly. The two looked at one another, not saying anything, then Maze snatched Trixie’s old toy.

“Right. I’ll keep her safe until you get back.” The demon promised, then after a quick nod, he was leading them back toward the food. 

It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes before they found the backpack, and in no time at all she was wolfing down frozen granola and jerky like it was the best thing she ever had.

“I can’t believe we were so close to food this whole time!” Ella exclaimed between mouthfuls of frozen Power Bar.

“Or so close to the mansion...” Dan added nervously. “Where did everyone go?”

“Dead.” Michael replied, voice slightly tremulous. His eyes were locked onto the smoldering rubble. Chloe felt a chill crawl up her spine, and not because of the freezing night air. She kept hearing Maze in her head, reminding them that he was a “Murder Angel.” As she looked wearily over to hm, his eyes darted upward and he pulled back, arms raised defensively. The sound of wings followed immediately after.

In response to the sound, Dan clicked on a flashlight and whipped it around until it landed on two figures, both bringing their hands up to shield their eyes and crying out in distress. “Amenadiel!” He exclaimed, then after lowering the beam, “Sorry.”

“It’s alright, Dan. I’m glad to see you’re okay.” He smiled warmly, only to grow confused, eyebrows scrunching and mouth turning down in a slight frown. “I thought you were captured.”

The following conversation was pure chaos.

“I was. Sandalphon helped us escape.” ... “Sandalphon!?!” ... “Yeah, Dude was, like, totally goin’ cray-cray over Zerachiel killing Lucifer!” ... “Dear Father! Luci was killed?” ... “I need to resurrect him.” ... “You can do that?” ... “Michael! You shouldn’t be here!” ... “Commander! Please forgive me for failing you!” ... “There’s nothing to forgive, Remiel.” ... “Thank you.” ... “You can resurrect him???” ... “Yes, Detective Chloe, I think so...” ... “You think? Fine. I’m coming with you.” ... “Chloe, you can’t fight... What’s that?” ... “Hey, my gun!” ... “Maze gave these to me.” ... “Is Maze okay?” ... “How did a demon get Hell forged bullets? Where is that beast, I will...” ... “You will not touch Mazikeen of the Lilim, Remiel!” ... “It’s my gun, I should...” ... “Detective Chloe needs to be the one wielding it.”

Eventually, after a lot of arguing between three stubborn angels, and three equally stubborn humans, they had a plan of sorts. Remiel left to get Gabriel, and they made their way across the torn up lawn and into the crumbling building. As they stepped through the rubble, Chloe found her grip tightening on her firearm, and Michael’s breathing started to ratchet up.  
  
“We got this, right, bud?” Ella encouraged, taking his arm to offer support. He nodded shakily, and Amenadiel drew closer, standing protectively at his side.

As something bright caught her eye, Chloe turned to see his wings again, still on display in the softly lit case. When last she saw them, Lucifer had been there. It made her heart ache. Michael was staring at them, his lower lip trembling and his fists clenching as his breath stuck.

“Oh, Michael...” Ella breathed.

Amenadiel took a step toward them, one hand reaching out. His face was a mask of sorrow. “Should we maybe...”

“No.” Michael half growled, turning away.  
  
For a moment, they all just stared, then Dan broke the spell. “Your sword!” He blurted abruptly, as if desperate for a subject change. “I almost forgot why I even _came _here! Do you know where it’s at?”   
  
A slight twitch and Michael’s expression went blank. “Weapons room, perhaps? It seems Samael wrecked it, though.” Dan headed over, and they followed, eager to leave the depressing scene behind. Then, as they approached, Dan hooted triumphantly as he moved a bit of broken shelving aside and retrieved an ornate dagger. Then he clambered over, holding it out.  
  
“This it?” Michael nodded and took it, smiling fondly. Huh. For some reason, she thought the sword of the archangel Michael would look more like... a _sword. _But then he drew it and a blue flame extended far beyond where the dagger would have stopped, almost like a...

“Dude, you’re totally a Jedi!” Ella marveled as he put it away again. He looked at her in confusion. 

“What’s a...”

Amenadiel coughed dramatically and everyone looked at him. “We can worry about science fiction later. Where’s the passage into the other universe?”  
  
“The doorway is through there.” Michael pointed, and Amenadiel started over. Meanwhile, Chloe’s brain broke again. She was vaguely aware of following them, and of a door opening. She felt a blast of heat on her numb face and saw light through the doorway. Stepping through, she came into what felt like an empty walk-in closet, and all the while her brain was stuck on the fact that they were entering another universe. Another universe... Another... 

The warmth spread through her numb fingers and toes, welcome and infuriating all at once as they started to tingle, while her nose and ears felt like they were on fire. And were the hairs on her arm standing up?

The nails in the wall sparked and the explosive boom of thunder caught them all off guard. Ella squeaked, Amenadiel’s wings unfurled, suddenly crowding them, Dan groaned, and Michael fell back... into Chloe, who snapped out of her daze.  
  
Then they heard bickering voices beyond the askew doorway. One was Zerachiel. “You should just give up, Old Man. You’re vessel is done!” The sound of another explosion threw everyone off again.  
  
“I can do this all day. You might as well surrender, Dr. Frankenstein!” Came a rich accented voice Chloe didn’t recognize. Old Man? Could it be?

“How _dare_ you!?!?” 

This was followed by scuffling, and what sounded like furniture being thrown.  
  
Tentatively, Amenadiel stepped forward, folding his wings against his back, and glancing once at everyone nervously, he pushed open the partially unhinged door, revealing a room that was in utter ruin. Mid-afternoon light flooded her vision and Chloe blinked as Amenadiel charged in, followed by Michael. Chloe stared at the scene as she followed them out with her firearm raised. Unconscious people were scattered about the floor, and the building was a mess. There was a thrashed throne near a back wall, which was partially missing, and a strange man crouched behind it.  
  
“Father?” Amenadiel exclaimed in shock.  
  
Zerachiel whirled around to see the new arrivals, and as his eyes locked on Michael, an almost animalistic hunger took hold of his features. Chloe spotted Lucifer laying unceremoniously by another wall, behind Zerachiel, one wing bent oddly under him and the other sprawled out. A manacle around one wrist sat open and he still stared lifelessly ahead, the blood on his chest and wings a dark brownish color.

She forced down the lump in her throat and made herself look away, reminding herself that it could be fixed... it could be...  
  
Zerachiel charged toward Michael, who had gone rigid at the sight of him, and Amenadiel tackled him. Dan started toward Lucifer and Chloe followed, keeping her gun at the ready. As she knelt by Lucifer, she saw Dan removing the partially attached manacle. Then her world shifted again when she suddenly heard a voice by her side.

“Greetings, Chloe Decker.” Whirling around, she saw the dark skinned man who had been crouching behind the throne.

“Are you God?” She demanded disbelievingly.

In the middle of the room, Amenadiel was thrown off by Zerachiel, who grabbed Michael. Ella leapt onto his back, ripping out feathers. 

“That I am.” God affirmed serenely, as if nothing was out of place, and Chloe’s heart filled with fury. Her fist clenched and before she knew what she was doing, it was connecting with His face, knocking Him off His feet. 

“That’s for Lucifer!” She snapped.

“Ow!” God blinked and rubbed his cheek from where he sat, and everyone stopped fighting to stare at her. Michael had Ella enfolded protectively in his arms. Both gaped at her. Amenadiel’s fist went lax as disbelief set in. Zerachiel gawked for a brief moment before chuckling.  
  
“That’s quite a right cross you have, my dear.” God laughed, rubbing his cheek and standing again. As he spoke, the three angels seemed to reanimate. Amenadiel charged Zerachiel and Michael ran over to them, carrying Ella bridal style, his sheathed sword in her hand... and wait, was that? As Michael reached them, he set her down and she opened her fist to reveal the medallion. 

“How did you...” Dan started.

“Don’t ask me why I know how to swipe things.” Ella reprimanded sternly and Dan’s mouth closed abruptly.

“Son. It’s time.” God looked at Michael, who had the medallion now, which was glowing a vibrant blue in his hand.

“Yes, Father,” He replied softly, closing his eyes, and suddenly the room filled with an almost wild blue light before quickly becoming a blinding white and Zerachiel let out a desperately furious scream as he struggled to get Amenadiel off him. 

God then proceeded to take off an arrowhead necklace she hadn’t noticed before, and as He tossed it aside, he staggered and fell back, blinking in confusion. “What? Where am I?” He blurted, before recoiling at the sight of Lucifer’s still dead body.  
  
For a moment, Chloe was seeing spots, but then Amenadiel cried out in distress and Chloe looked to see about six zombie angels swarming him. Oh, no. They were being controlled! Which meant they were running out of time to help Lucifer. She felt her heart skip when Michael placed his hands on his dead brother. But they were being charged by more of the previously sleeping people, so she turned away, firing shot after shot, each one precise and effective. She hit one in the thigh, another in the shoulder, one was hit center mass, and she kneecapped a fourth.  
  
“Wow, he’s all better…” She heard Dan exclaiming and glancing over her shoulder, she saw Lucifer completely mended, shirtless but whole, and no longer cast in the pallor of death. But… Michael looked upset about something.  
  
“What’s wrong?” She asked, as Ella and Dan fought to keep the attackers back, and the guy who had been God cowered.  
  
“I can’t find him.” Michael’s voice was shaking.  
  
“What do you mean, you can’t find him?”  
  
But he didn’t seem to hear her. “Samael?” He called out softly. “Where are you, Sam? Sammy?” He was starting to sound desperate now, and Chloe felt her own breathing grow labored.  
  
“Lucifer?” She heard herself saying. She could hear the fighting around her, but her her world was shrinking again.  
  
As if taking her cue, she heard Michael try again, “Lucifer? Brother? Lightbringer? Star of the Morning?!?” He was definitely panicking now. She took Lucifer’s warm hand and started to weep as Michael continued to look for his soul, eyes closed and voice cracking. “Please, Sammy, come back. Where are you?” He was crying as he collapsed on top of his brother, begging softly for him to come back, then Chloe saw a shadow looming over them.  
  
“Back off!” Ella exclaimed, and as Chloe turned, she saw Ella being tossed aside, Michael’s sword skittering away.  
  
Chloe raised her gun, but he was pushing her out of the way too as he snatched her weapon and tossed it aside. “I haven’t time for you, right now.” He remarked, then he gripped Michael by the collar of his shirt and pulled him off his brother.  
  
“No!” Chloe cried.  
  
“Michael!” Dan exclaimed, as a couple zombie angels tackled him.  
  
“Leave him alone!” Ella shrieked.  
  
But Michael said nothing, his expression empty, and tears dampening his cheeks, as his vile brother pulled him close. Zerachiel’s smile grew as he possessively wrapped his arms around him.  
  
“Welcome home.” He purred triumphantly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where’s God?😰  
Where’s Luci?🥺
> 
> Michael!!!😱😭
> 
> What’s gonna happen now? 😐  
_Reminds self not to tell. _🤭
> 
> Sorry-not-sorry for another cliff hanger. 😈
> 
> I love you all!💜💙💚💛🧡❤️  
Special thanks to Miah_Arthur for helping with this extra challenging chapter.


	55. The End is The Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our poor Murder Angel finally snaps. And we finally find Luci! Huzzah! Dialogue!

He felt his brother dragging him, one hand clasped his wrists behind his back, and the other arm wrapped possessively around his chest. “Welcome home.” He purred into his ear. “I’ve missed you.” Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was trying to tell himself to fight back, to get away, but he felt numb… and empty.  
  
Samael.  
  
Where was he?  
  
He couldn’t find his twin’s light anywhere… he was gone. He was… gone. The weight of that understanding left a void in his heart, and loneliness seeped in, poisoning his every breath with bitter despair.

He was alone.  
  
_“I don’t want to be alone.” _His own words rang in his head as the distant memory surfaced.

_“Mī… you should know that can never happen. I would never leave you alone.” _He remembered being embraced after this promise... and a cold fire started to flow through his veins.  
  
The sound of clinking metal caught his attention, and he felt those hateful golden shackles at his back. He could hear the humans begging him to fight back. 

But...  
  
Sammy.  
  
It was all his fault. If he hadn’t sought him out... now he lost the one family member who never expected him to do or be anything he didn’t want, the only one who ever fought for his happiness... Samael was gone. He wanted to disappear, for everything to just be over...

But the one who had pulled the trigger; the one who had driven a sword into his twin’s back wanted to use him to cause even more grief, and he felt his eyes flare. His brother paused in what he was doing.  
  
“Mîchael?”  
  
He gasped as he suddenly felt a surge of energy coursing through him. It wasn’t his usual light... this was different. It felt like oblivion, and he reached for it. Cold fire ignited across his hands and spread up his arms, even as it settled into his heart. Burning ice.  
  
“You took him away from me.” He whispered, voice overlaid with power as his rage grew. His brother pulled back, dropping the fetters in alarm as self-preservation kicked in. “Nothing. Is. Real.” He decided, almost not registering his own words, and with that, the cold flames shot out in every direction, swirling into a maelstrom of pure dematerializing energy.  
  
Everything the flames touched came undone – becoming nothing.  
  
Letting out a wild keen, he fell to his knees, and let the oblivion take over.  
  
***  
  
Lucifer felt strange.   
  
This wasn’t Hell... And it most certainly wasn’t the Silver City... unless something truly horrific happened that he wasn’t aware of? It felt like purgatory, but emptier... like that place between dreaming and being out cold. It felt like untapped potential - like all he had to do was imagine something into being. And it felt vaguely familiar.  
  
Where was he?  
  
He tried to figure out what happened by retracing his steps. He remembered being shot and stabbed by Zerachiel... he remembered the pain. He was pretty sure he died. Again. Bloody annoying inconvenience. But why wasn’t he in Hell? Was this nonexistence? No... That wasn’t right, either. Because he was still aware of himself. Thinking.  
  
“I think, therefore I am.”   
  
He laughed at the absurdity of how apt that statement suddenly was for him. So, he reasoned, if he still _was,_ he could find a way back. The Detective needed him. She was probably devastated, and oh, dear Dad! What if Mîchael found him dead and gone?   
  
He had to get back.  
  
Perhaps, if he could remember why this was so familiar? Lucifer concentrated... but he got nothing. Ha! He remembered nothing about nothing! Go figure.  
  
But it wasn’t nothing anymore. Someone else was there.   
  
“Welcome to The Beginning. I still remember wandering around here, myself. Before I met your mother.” A familiar VOICE rang out, and Lucifer whirled around to stare disbelievingly at his Father – who, for some bloody reason was wearing the wrong face.  
  
“Really? Earl Johnson?” He raised an eyebrow, only barely realizing that until that moment, he didn’t even _have_ an eyebrow to raise until he took form. It was strange to think that before this, he was just a collection of thoughts.  
  
His Dad smiled at him. “This was how I looked last time we talked, and since you seemed to be more agreeably disposed toward me then…”  
  
“That was really _you?!?!” _ Lucifer exclaimed, pulling back in disbelief, feeling a range of emotions warring within him. His Father looked thoroughly amused as he struggled with the notion that back then, he had been ready to forgive Dear Old Dad… but that was before. Before Mī. “Fine. That was you. Messing with me again. Like you are now. I should’ve known you had something to do with this.” He snarled, eyes flaring.   
  
God laughed in response to His son’s outburst. “Did I, now?” He queried, seemingly delighted.  
  
“Why did you bring me here?”  
  
His Dad chuckled and crossed his arms, shaking his head. “And there you go again, giving me all the credit. You really need to get over that, Samael.” He smiled affectionately at him, and Lucifer glared back all the more fiercely, feeling patronized and hopeful all at once. And feeling manipulated because he knew better than to hope.  
  
“You control everything.” Lucifer scoffed. “You ripped me away from my family, cast me into Hell, and forced me to fulfill a role I _never_ wanted! Everything that happens is your doing. Ergo, your fault.” He drew closer to the Father he once loved as he spoke.  
  
The Creator smiled sadly at him. “You asked me once to let you make your own destiny, and you’ve been assuming ever since that I denied you that simple request. You’ve been in control of your fate for a very long time, son.”  
  
_“LIAR!”_ The Devil screamed. He felt hot tears in his eyes, whether from rage or sorrow, he didn’t care. All he wanted was to make sure he didn’t waste this chance to be heard by the one responsible for hurting him. For hurting Mîchael. “All you do is _lie _and _manipulate!”_  
  
God seemed to sag under the weight of his words. “I do not lie. But I don’t correct people when they draw the wrong conclusions either. And if you choose to judge me for that, then you’re being rather hypocritical.”  
  
Lucifer’s eye twitched. “Fine. Just add it to the pile of everything else that’s wrong about me.”  
  
The two celestials were silent for a while, Lucifer paced as he wrestled with the hyperactive emotional squall within him, while the Father stood quietly patient. A knot was forming in his gut as he considered his situation. Feeling trapped, Lucifer finally turned to face Him again. 

“So what is it this time, Dad? Why did you bring me here, and what do I have to do to get back?” His voice felt thick... defeated. But he had to get back. No matter what.  
  
God blinked back tears and His mouth turned down sorrowfully. “Oh, Samael.” He breathed, arms half raising to embrace Lucifer before stopping, knowing full well that He was not welcome. “You do not owe me anything. And just like so many things, you did this yourself.”  
  
“What?” Lucifer demanded, perplexed.  
  
God willed a couple chairs into the potential and sat down in one, motioning for Lucifer to do the same. The prodigal son hesitated, but eventually sat, still shooting Him an accusingly glare.   
  
“You didn’t go to Hell, because you no longer _feel_ you belong there. You didn’t go to the Silver City because you still don’t think you belong there either. So you came to The Beginning. Does this not feel familiar to you?”  
  
Lucifer furrowed his brow. “Yes, but I...”  
  
“Remember when you and your brother created your pocket universe together? _All_ realities start here. This was where you were when the two of you made the nothing into something. Just like how your Mother and I...” God stopped and shook his head mirthfully. “Well, okay... “He chuckled a bit. “...maybe not _exactly_ the same, as you well know.” He laughed again and Lucifer groaned. “But you get the idea.” Lucifer didn’t get it. His Dad sighed. “You made nothing into something, son.”  
  
It was in that moment that Lucifer understood why God gave him a chair, because had he been standing, his legs would’ve given out under him. “Wha... what are you saying?” He whispered, suddenly terrified of hearing the answer.  
  
God simply continued his narrative. “I was beside myself with pride when you two pulled that off.” He paused, a wistful melancholy flitting over His features. “It’s said that you Fell because of pride, but...” He looked Lucifer in the eyes. “It was never your sin, son. It was mine.” His Dad swallowed a lump and Lucifer felt his heart clench. “I’ve _always_ been proud of you. Of both of you.” 

Lucifer was shaking his head, unable to form words. It was all he had ever wanted to hear, and looking at his Father, he saw the truth of His words. He really _was_ proud. But...

His Father kept talking. “You were such a vibrant, jubilant, passionate soul... I couldn’t help loving you just a little more than the rest. Always so bright.”  
  
Lucifer shook his head, anger and validation warring within him. “Well you have a funny way of showing favoritism, then.” He managed with a grumble.  
  
“Ah, well... you and Mîchael had too much power for as young as you were, and had I left things as they were, it would’ve been a disaster. Capital D, son.” Lucifer raised an eyebrow at that. “I wish things had gone differently. I wish you had been willing to let me guide you, teach you, and keep you from suffering. In my arrogance, I thought I could make you stay, but such was your desire for freedom... In the end, I relented and set you lose. And unfortunately, I had to use Mîchael to do it, because I couldn’t have him following you. I’m sorry for that. For pulling you two apart… but at the time, it had been...” God looked at his hands. “...necessary.”

“Finally admitting you’re not perfect?” Lucifer snarled.

“Never said I was.” His Dad shrugged. 

Lucifer stared at Him. “Right. You’ve been mute forever and all of a sudden, you’re ready to talk? To apologize? I’m not buying it. Why now? After all this time, what’s changed?” He challenged.

God smirked. “Perspective, Samael. I’ve found a new perspective.”

Lucifer laughed harshly at him. “Really? You pretend to be human and suddenly you see the light? Suddenly you feel bad about casting me into Hell and painting me as the villain!?!” He was shouting now, standing and pacing as all the pain came flooding out, his fists clenching and unclenching, until he calmed down enough to look at Him again.

His Dad exhaled heavily. “You were set free, Samael. And from that moment on, you created your own reality. But the reality you made for yourself was bleak. Even as it hurt to see it, though, I honored your request for freewill. I didn’t interfere, much as I wanted to.”  
  
“No. That... that can’t be... but...” Lucifer looked at his hands, which were trembling with pent up tension. Anger, confusion… clarity. Self-actualization… He fell back into his chair as understanding sapped the strength from his legs. Mîchael called it Manifestation of Will. Could it be?  
  
“You could’ve returned here back then... to start anew.” God placed His hand on His son’s. Lucifer didn’t bat it away. He just stared at it. “Well, you finally found your way back. Took the long way around to get here though, didn’t you?”  
  
Lucifer laughed humorlessly. “Yes, well, I thought I’d take the scenic route.” He remarked coldly. Then he glared again as he pulled his hand away, feeling his fury mounting. “You could’ve told me, instead of hurting me, or at the very least, instead of making Mī do your dirty work for you. But no! I may have asked for it… _literally, _it seems... but he doesn’t deserve to suffer, he’s _good.”_  
  
“No. Neither of you deserve to suffer, but you weren’t ready.” The Father replied sadly.  
  
Lucifer’s eyes flickered red. “Not ready? For what? The truth? The power of creation? The Beginning? Freewill? What!?” He was shouting again as he stood, feeling rather like a seesaw being pulled up and down by his own fury and misery.  
  
“All of the above.” God admitted. Then he stood as well to look His son in the eye. “But that was before.”  
  
The weight of what was said hung in the emptiness, and Lucifer huffed indignantly. “So that’s it? This was your endgame?”  
  
“This is the endgame for all of Us. The end is The Beginning.” God explained.  
  
Lucifer shook his head in bemusement. “So now what? I go into the God business?” He quipped.  
  
“You could. You could make this your new reality. You could leave everything behind and start fresh. Or you could return, and be with the humans you love.” God replied. They both knew what choice he would make.  
  
“I don’t know how.” It was a plea.  
  
“Yes, you do. You’ve done it before.”  
  
Lucifer blinked disbelievingly. “Oh, Really?” He sneered. “I think I would’ve remembered...” God looked knowingly at him, and suddenly, it came back to him. “Malcolm! I thought _you_ brought me back... but... you were on Earth at the time, weren’t you?” His Dad nodded. Lucifer brought his hand to his head in confusion. “What about the message you sent me about Mum?”  
  
God offered a sage smile. “Mîchael didn’t understand his visions at first, either. That was Creation speaking to you, son. Not me. It was warning you.” He chortled. Lucifer gawked. “Every time you do something truly miraculous, you give me credit. You brought yourself back, you kept sprouting wings, you can change your form, and you even make yourself vulnerable… almost human. You _decide.” _The Father of Creation placed his hand on his son’s shoulder, and smiled benevolently at him. “So decide.”  
  
Decide. 

Was it really that simple? It sounded like a ridiculous cat poster. ‘_Believe!’ _ But what if that’s all it took? Lucifer took a steadying breath and concentrated on what he wanted - _needed_ \- to believe. He knew he had to be absolutely certain, free of doubt. He told himself to decide… to choose… To _Will _his desires into being... Lucifer let his eyes close and he felt everything rushing back to him. 

When he opened them again, he found himself in a world in chaos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Mī, it’s not your fault! 😭
> 
> Zerachiel’s over there thinking:  
“Hmmm... maybe I messed up somewhere... 🤔  
...Run away!😱”
> 
> Lucifer and God finally talk it out! 🎉
> 
> And now Luci’s gonna have to fix things. 😪


	56. The Beginning of the End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> God: you decide your destiny. *throws son into ocean* now try swimming!  
or... Lucifer has to figure out how to use the new information he has very, very quickly.

Lucifer was disoriented. The sound of wind and fire assaulted his ears, followed by the thunderous roar of moving earth and the cracking explosive crash of a building being dismantled. The gales of wind swept away the voices of various people screaming and the air was thick with energy. As his eyes focused, he saw blue fire swirling around in a hurricane. Everything the flames touch dissipated, feeding the squall, and the swirling energy would grow and spread out, destroying everything in its wake.  
  
That was Mī’s energy… and it was unmaking everything it touched.   
  
“No.” Lucifer heard himself uttering in disbelief as he struggled to sit.  
  
Everything about this was_ wrong. _Mîchael was life and creation... but here, his energy seemed to be doing the opposite._ “You decide.” _He remembered his Dad’s words, and he felt himself grow cold as another conversation came to mind. From when he first started to realize how much control he actually had.  
_  
“Why do you think you’ve been lying to yourself all this time?” Linda prompted._

_“Because the truth is so much harder to face.” He admitted reluctantly._

_“What is the truth?”  
_  
The truth.

He was destruction, Mîchael was creation... but why? His brother’s energy was starting the spread faster, exponentially growing as it tore what was left of the building asunder. What if... what if the truth was...  
_  
“What? Come on, Lucifer! This will weigh on you unless you face it head on. The real truth is what?” The good Doctor was leaning forward, motioning, encouraging him._

_“There is something rotten inside of me. I find it near impossible to drown out the constant cacophony of voices in my ear, whispering, telling me that I... am... evil! I’m drowning, doctor! And I can’t stop asking myself, why do I hate myself so much?”  
_  
It seemed so long ago. His epiphany... back before he returned to Hell, saying farewell to the Detective and leaving. He thought he had figured it out, too. He had gotten a handle on things; knew the whole truth. But it was so much more than that. What if he had given himself the role... and he manifested the powers that went with it? What if this was the true nature of Self-Actualization? It really was a manifestation of Will. Lucifer looked toward the blue fire. If that was true... he knew Mī had been struggling. With everything. With his identity, his self-worth, his emotions... It looked like he finally lost his grip.

With some effort, he pulled his eyes away from his brother’s energy to take in the rapidly vanishing scene before him, and he felt his heart drop. Miss Lopez, Daniel... Chloe! They were there! There was another human, a dark skinned older man he was pretty sure he didn’t know with them, and there were also fallen angels and various other humans present, all running out of room to retreat as the world around them came undone. He spotted Amenadiel trying to help a group of humans over a rapidly growing chasm… and Zerachiel was there too, backing up, a wild look in his eyes as he spread his wings and took flight. Then he noticed the creatures, all trying to get away from the end of everything.  
  
This was bad. The world was literally ending. But... this didn’t quite look like Earth. Where were they? A two-headed lizard scampering over his lap offering the answer he sought. And with a jolt, he knew. He was back! Jumping up, he let his eyes roam further, to see familiar plants and animals. He knew this world... it was his! His and Mîchael’s, and it was coming to an end!

But how? Lucifer thought it was lost...  
  
Lucifer’s eyes locked onto Zerachiel, as understanding took shape. The maggot had stolen His Mī and used him, he had stolen his fallen warriors and turn them into puppets, and he had even stolen his secret sanctuary and made it into a prison. And now, just like before, the coward was fleeing. Lucifer felt rage building up within him, but then he heard the Detective screaming as a wave of energy brushed across her side, and turning to stare in horror, he saw that part of her was missing completely.  
  
“Detective!” He screamed as he moved toward her. But she couldn’t hear him, and he could only watch as she stumbled back, glassy eyed and disoriented before she fell on her good side, no doubt having gone into shock. No!  
  
Not Chloe. Not the Detective! Not her! Please, not her!  
  
Miss Lopez was at her side, pulling her back and ripping her shirt to make an entirely ineffective bandage for the bleeding wound, constantly looking back at the swirling vortex of doom that was edging closer all the time. The same vortex which was now in Lucifer’s way as it continued to grow. Dan was there next, as was the dark stranger… they pulled her to a safer distance, but all that did was buy them a bit of time. Lucifer started to look for a way to get to her, even though he knew he may not make it in time, and even if he did, then what? There was no way to get away from this… And they were running out of time.  
  
Time.  
  
“Amenadiel!” Lucifer roared as loudly as he could.  
  
Amenadiel startled from where he was guiding some of the others to a safer distance, and his eyes widened in surprise and hope. “Luci!” He bellowed back.  
  
“You need to stop time!” He hollered, starting to fight his way over to get closer to his brother.   
  
“What?” Amenadiel exclaimed, looking at the blue flames whipping about. “It wouldn’t stop those. Michael is making them.” He shouted, hurrying over to his brother’s side.  
  
“I know, but if I can fix this while time is frozen, it’ll be like it never even happened.” He explained, looking frantically at his friends who were quickly running out of safe places to retreat.  
  
“I can’t.” Amenadiel lamented, “I haven’t been able to…”  
  
Lucifer grabbed his brother with both hands on his shoulders and looked him directly in the eyes. “You can. You decided to take your powers away, now you need to decide to take them back!” He urged desperately. Amenadiel had to get a move on, Chloe was running out of time. They all were… they needed help. And Lucifer needed Time.  
  
Amenadiel looked at him in disbelief, trying to make sense of what he was saying. “Bloody Hell!” Lucifer exasperated. “Self-Actualization!” He snapped, and finally, Amenadiel understood.

“I will do what I can.” He declared, and he closed his eyes.

Lucifer chanced a glance at the humans again and immediately wished he hadn’t. Daniel had been caught in it now, and part of his left leg was missing. The Detective was pale... Ella was trembling. Then everything grew still for an instant before kicking back to life.  
  
Lucifer turned to his oldest brother again, to see his brow scrunched as he bowed his head in concentration, beads of sweat starting to form and glisten on his skin, then he brought his hands up and turned them outward, and time stopped.  
  
As predicted, it had no effect on the wild energy whipping about. But everything else was still.  
  
“I can’t hold it for long, what are you going to do?” Amenadiel asked through clenched teeth.

“I have to get to Mī.”  
  
“You’re going to get yourself destroyed if you go in there!” He panicked, and Lucifer smiled to see that his brother was genuinely concerned for him.  
  
“No, I won’t.” He promised. Then he turned toward the swirling vortex.  
  
Lucifer charged toward the center of the energy, and a blue flame hit him in the wing. A strange painful sensation like coldness so sharp it burned enveloped the appendage, and as he pulled back, it started to dissipate. Lucifer glared at the emptiness where his feathered annoyance used to be. He was most certainly not interested in being a bloody one winged angel!  
_  
“Decide. You sprouted your wings.”  
_  
Bloody nuisances kept coming back. It didn’t matter how many times they were chopped off, they always came right back. With that thought, a flash of light filled his vision, and it was whole again. The effort left him feeling slightly drained, though. Apparently, deciding to change the rules required the use of his light. He had to be careful not to overdo it until he reached his brother. Glancing again toward the center, he charged forward.  
  
He focused on his objective, drowning out the reality being stripped away around him. He dodged the blue fire as it surged toward him, and ignored the change in lighting when the star they had created suddenly vanished. He ducked under another wave, and found himself falling as the ground itself started to disappear. Bringing his wings up, he caught himself and flew toward the center.   
  
“Hurry!” He heard Amenadiel pleading.  
  
He didn’t turn around to see what his brother was upset about. He didn’t want to know what was happening to his friends... to Chloe. He needed to focus. As he reached the focal point of the storm, he braced himself, reminding himself that he chose what happened to him. Then he burst into it.  
  
Burning coldness encompassed his entire being, and he felt himself slipping as the siren’s song of oblivion called to him, offering an end to the pain that was tearing him apart. Peace. As emptiness took his mind, he let his final thoughts linger on the Detective.

The Detective!

He remembered dancing with her in the penthouse, a flower pinned to her shirt. He remembered kissing on the steps...  
_  
“This is real, isn’t it?”  
_  
Real. Reality.

Chloe wasn’t waiting for him in oblivion. She wasn’t there. Nothing was. No monopoly nights with the Urchin, no wine on the beach after solving a case, no coming home to find her passed out in his shirt, no Albanian wench snoring and hogging the sheets... He turned away from the void.  
_   
Decide.  
_   
Feeling like he was caught in a dream, he willed himself to believe that he existed._ I think, therefore I am._ He chanted this to himself, over and over, and it was like waking up in a nightmare, and realizing that he was controlling everything with his every thought, and knowing he was not in control... Except… this was not a dream. It was real. And he was the only one holding himself back… Unless he decided to change the rules.  
_   
Decide.  
_   
Chloe needed him. His friends needed him. Mī needed him. And with that knowledge, he felt himself becoming again. He felt himself breaking through the whirlwind of blue light, and he was whole.  
  
Lucifer stood in the eye of the storm.  
  
His Mī was curled in a ball, trembling as blue light emanated from around him, spreading outward. His shaking hands were clenched over his head and his breaths were ragged and stuttering.  
  
“Look what they’ve done to you.” Lucifer heaved as he walked on non-existent ground toward his twin. His heart ached to see him like this, and he felt a tear slip from his eye only to fall into nothingness... and disappear into nothingness as it fell. Lucifer knelt down and placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder. Mîchael stilled. Sighing, Lucifer’s hand found a stray curl and tucking it back behind his brother’s ear.  
  
Mîchael looked up in disbelieving surprise to see him sitting at his side and the swirling energy instantly vanished. Tear stains marred his cheeks and his lips were trembling as he gasped for breath. For a moment, he gaped, but then he choked on a sob and his expression shifted from dazed and shocked to devastated.  
  
“Well, well, aren’t you a sorry mess.” Lucifer breathed, pulling out his pocket square and offering it. As he did so, he faltered. All of reality dissolved around him, and he had his pocket square. Because of course he did. He remade himself exactly as he desired to be. Dressed in his favorite Armani, with a red dress shirt and a matching pocket square.  
  
“S... sa... Sammy?” Mī’s voice cracked. He took the offering and proceeded to cry into it.  
  
“I’m here, Mī.” He reassured, putting his hand on his emotional brother’s shoulder as his twin curled into him.  
  
“But… you were gone.” More crying. “I couldn’t find you. You were…”  
  
“Just having a little chat with Dad, but I’m here now.”  
  
“Father?” Mîchael wiped his eyes and nose, sniffing as he looked around in confusion.  
  
Lucifer followed his gaze to see that almost everything was gone. The emptiness was unnerving. It looked familiar, actually. Hadn’t he just left nothingness behind? As he took it in, he noticed a few things survived. A couple bullets... for some odd reason, the chains... random fragments of the building’s infrastructure which had been made with materials from the Silver City... they floated where they were, as there was nothing around to entice gravity’s pull anymore. And, of course, there was Amenadiel, flying over to them.  
  
“Where… what?” Mîchael questioned, looking around.

Amenadiel landed on the nonexistent ground and looked at them nervously.  
  
“You may have thrown a bit of a tantrum and made everything disappear.” Lucifer explained, downplaying the seriousness.  
  
“I did this?” Mîchael looked horrified at him. “But what about…”  
  
“Their souls are still here, but I can’t hold time much longer.” Amenadiel informed through gritted teeth. “I… I’m a bit out of practice.”  
  
Understanding and fear both took hold. “But... I... I can’t fix this… I… what… what have I done?” Mī started to shake again.  
  
“No, I imagine you can’t.” Lucifer agreed, taking his brother’s hand and letting some of his light flow into him. “But _we _can. Together. We did it before.”  
  
Mī looked at him, brow furrowing. “That was a long time ago, and it took ages to make everything.”  
  
“Well, that was different. This time, all the energy is still here, and the souls are already formed. All we have to do is stitch it back together before time can take any of it away.” He reassured.  
  
“What if it’s too much? What if I’m not the same angel I used to be?” He sobbed.  
  
Lucifer was silent for a moment. How was his brother supposed to believe in his ability to decide when up until now his choice had always been denied him?  
  
“One step at a time, brother.” Amenadiel suggested. “Just fix as much as you can, and that will be enough.”  
  
“Right.” Lucifer agreed.

“But without my wings... I can’t see their light, how am I..?”

“You don’t need your wings for that.” Lucifer coaxed. “You can see them... You know what to do.” It took everything he had to maintain his calm as he encouraged his brother.  
  
Mī took his other hand, and let his eyes wander over the emptiness. Lucifer could feel the energy flowing between them, and as Mîchael’s eyes locked onto the spot where their friends had been, he nodded, and Lucifer felt his twin’s light join with his.

  
  
**_Title Song:_** [The Beginning of the End](https://youtu.be/suYsfp9UML4) by Klergy, featuring Valerie Broussard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title song is from Devil of My Word in season 3.  
This song was a primary source of inspiration for my fic.  
❤️❤️
> 
> I could go on an on about this chapter.
> 
> but... I won’t.
> 
> Did they forget about Zerachiel? 😨


	57. The End of the Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Creation. Lots of nice visuals, here.

Lucifer and Mîchael looked at the spot where their friends were meant to be. It felt like looking at a grave, empty and forgotten. There was a strange melancholy to all of it... like nostalgia over something one couldn’t quite remember.

Taking his advice, his twin focused inward, drawing strength from Lucifer’s certainty as their light became one, and sure enough, Mī could see the light of each soul suspended in time. And as he saw them, so did Lucifer. It had been ages since Lucifer was able to see creation this way, and the sight was marvelously disorienting. He felt like a nearsighted man putting on glasses for the first time in forever, finally remembering what everything was supposed to look like.

And even though, at the moment, all there was to see were phantom forms suspended with time, Lucifer found himself drinking in the sight. He remembered this place. The rocks, the trees, the creatures... much had changed over the eons, but the core of it was still very much as it had been made. This place was theirs, and he wasn’t about to let it disappear now that they finally had it again.

But even as his brother’s light let him see the frozen souls all around them, it also let him feel everything he felt: Doubt, fear, guilt... and as Mîchael encouraged the energy around them to change into the raw materials needed for creation, he felt hope. Like a fragile seed struggling through the permafrost of conflict in his heart.

Small.

They needed to start small.  
  
“I’ve forgotten what it feels like.” He breathed, trying to lift his brother’s spirits, and Mîchael offered a tentative smile in return. “Perhaps we should start with this little one.” He indicated a small bird, its soul trapped in mid-flight. It was one of those with firelight in its wings. Mîchael was more confident about this, so he gathered the elements together and Lucifer willed them into form. It hurt in a way, like sore muscles that had all but atrophied with stiffness after a long slumber. The pain felt good, though. Wonderful even, and as the bird took shape, wings spread and talons curled in, Mī’s breath caught, taken aback by how lovely it was.

More feelings surged to the forefront. Surprise, wonder, and confidence. They could do this.  
  
Capitalizing on his brother’s newfound strength, they turned their attention to their friends. Chloe, and Miss Lopez.

For a moment, the twins lost their focus when they couldn’t agree on which to make first, but then they agreed to reform both of them together. Their souls were bathed in light and from that light, they took shape, like clay being molded into something more. This hurt much more than the bird, and they almost lost hold, but as the fire in their hearts ignited, they pushed through the pain. When the two were complete, they felt themselves becoming whole again as well.  
  
Lucifer’s wings lit up with pride, and Mī stood straighter too, no longer feeling afraid of his perceived shortcomings. Overcome by the feeling of joy that came only with creating, Lucifer realized this was the euphoria he had been missing all this time, constantly chasing and never reaching. It was a strange notion. After everything they had been through. After all the pain, after falling, after losing themselves and their way, after being broken by grief and despair... they could still do this, and the elation was still there. Even though everything had changed... in this way, they were still the same.  
  
Daniel was next. Detective Douche was a bit of a struggle. Lucifer wanted to mess with him a bit, give him a bigger nose, a mismatched eye, crooked teeth perhaps, or a mole that was decidedly not a beauty mark, but Mîchael was not having it. In the end, he was remade exactly as he had been. Then they made the stranger Mī only knew as Father’s former vessel. After that, they spread out their gift.  
  
They remade the creatures. All of them. They made the two headed lizards, the squirrel sized fox-like creatures, the myriad of birds, the great feathery-winged beasts that most closely resembled dragons... Every one made whole. The fallen warriors were formed next, no longer marred by the rotten imperfections of their self-actualization, followed by the other humans, free from the influence of Zerachiel’s command. They even made the clothes and trinkets that went with them. All the trappings. Couldn’t very well leave someone missing a favorite dagger of bracelet, could they?

Amenadiel strained, and for a brief instant, time skipped, so they quickly charged forward, creating atmosphere and ground. When they were ready they nodded at Amenadiel, and he relaxed. The firstborn collapsed, falling to his hands and knees, and time started up again.  
  
***

Chloe gasped. Everything was still. The blue fire was gone, the noise was gone, the pain, even the dulling of her senses... it was gone. Sitting up, she registered that she was using two arms and looking down, she saw that she was whole again. Which was crazy. Everything was strange. The ground was bare, the sky was empty, there was no apparent light source... but no darkness either.

“I’m dead.” She decided.

“I don’t think we are...” She heard Ella beside her, and turning toward her friend’s voice, she saw her staring in awe at something... something emanating light. She followed her gaze to see...

Lucifer!

And Michael. They were bathed in the divine light radiating from Lucifer’s wings, and something more... a soft white light flowing outward. A split second ago, Chloe was cornered in a world that was crumbling as blue fire tore everything asunder. But now…  
  
“Lucifer?” Chloe breathed, standing and starting toward him. He was alive and well, with Michael at his side, their hands interlocked. Nothing else mattered to her. Not the emptiness around them, not the people startling at the sudden change. Not even the strange white light that seemed to come from him. He was alive! He was fine! They both were. She had no idea how or why and her mind rebelled at comprehending, but she didn’t care. She wanted to run to him, but Ella pulled her back.  
  
“Woah, slow up, girl! Now’s not be the time for kissy faces.” She tried to adopt a casual tone, but her voice was soft, awe struck, and disbelieving.

As Chloe looked again, she noticed the light flowed from the angel twins reaching out to touch everything around them, and wherever it went, plants started to grow.  
  
“What’s happening?” Dan whispered.  
  
“Are they gods?” This, ironically, came from the guy God had been inhabiting. The poor man was probably beyond confused.  
  
“Not quite.” Amenadiel answered, landing at their sides and sinking heavily into a sitting position. The stranger next to her gasped again, eyes growing wide at the sight of an angel so close to him. “At least... I don’t think so… but...” Chloe was surprised to hear that Amenadiel’s voice sounded dumbfounded, too. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen them creating together, but back then... I always thought their power came from Father...”  
  
With a surge of light emanating out from Lucifer’s wings, the world around them started to take form more rapidly, putting an end to their conversation. Grass sprouted up, trees exploded into life. Shrubs, flowers, rock formations and cliffs, then the sky filled with clouds, and water took shape forming a pool, and suddenly a massive waterfall came cascading downward to splash into it. Cool droplets sprayed their sides and gentle gales of wind kicked up from the rapidly moving water to toss Chloe’s hair back. With every new creation, the world around them felt less dreamlike and more real. It was like waking up.

***.  
  
He found himself taking a deep breath, feeling, for the first time in a very long time, like it wasn’t a struggle. It was almost as if he had forgotten how to breathe altogether… had forgotten why he would want to. But he no longer wondered about that. This was why. This was what he was meant to do. This was who he was, and nothing felt more real.  
  
Samael looked at him, and he grinned. “Let’s see how much we can do, shall we?”  
  
He nodded, and with that, his brother took him and they launched into the air to get a better view. As they climbed upward, they reached out to the farthest parts of their world. He formed the elements and molecules... gathered them together and as his brother willed it, mountains in the distance shot into the sky, canyons cut into the ground, open fields stretched over plateaus, vast forests came alive, and desserts dotted the equator. Then looking upward, a moon took shape, cratered and pale. But what good was a moon without a star to reflect from? The world was still bathed in the soft twilight glow born from the will of its creators, and nothing more. That would not do.

Taking one more look at their world, Sam launched into the space beyond, bringing them to a place near where the star would be, far from gravity’s pull. He took hold of his brother’s shoulder as an anchor and the Lightbringer closed his eyes, bringing his hands together. He could feel his twin searching for the strength he needed to do this. Samael hadn’t made a star in eons, and until moments ago, he had wondered if he still had it in him to do so.  
  
“The elements are already gathered.” He reassured, smiling softly at him. When they started this, he had been the one with doubts, but now they traded places. He was tired in ways he didn’t know he could be. And it was pure force of will that kept his eyes open. He knew his brother felt fatigued, too. But creating stars was what Sam did best.

“Right.” His twin nodded.

He could feel his brother imagining the star, its personality, its color, and the wild energy of its light. Through his brother, he felt its innocent nature and they smiled at one another, knowing it was good.

“Let there be light.” Samael declared cheekily, and with that, an explosion of thermonuclear energy erupted before them, and the star blazed into brilliant existence. They took a moment to appreciate the sight before Sam pulled him in, and they returned to their world.  
  
As they landed, they let go and their light stopped flowing together. The humans were staring at them... he wasn’t sure what the looks on their faces meant. As soon as he and Samael broke their connection, he was back to feeling cut off, their light hidden once again. And all of his exhaustion seemed to amplify as soon as he realized the task was complete.  
  
“We did it.” He sighed, moments before sinking to his knees in the fresh green grass. Samael caught him and eased him down, a tender look in his eyes.  
  
“We did, indeed.” The Lightbringer affirmed gently, settling down next to him and tucking his wings away. He was vaguely aware of his arms around him as sleep took over.

***

Lucifer held his brother as he passed out, and he was reminded of how much he had been through. Mîchael had already expelled a great deal of energy wrecking the place. He was still working without wings, and partially depleted of divine light from his ordeal before. As he let his brother’s head settle on his lap, his own eyes started to water with a desire to close.

Looking around, he had to smirk. They had remade everything almost exactly as it had been, save whatever tasteless fortress Zerachiel had built. Bloody Hell! Zerachiel! He was still out there somewhere. He was still a threat… but Lucifer was too tired to do much about it, and glancing at Amenadiel, who was slouching onto Daniel’s shoulder, he had to chuckle, as he realized their brother looked almost as tired as he felt. Did that mean the bad guy was getting away again? Lucifer huffed in frustration. But his sour mood vanished when his eyes landed on Chloe.  
  
The Detective started to walk toward him, faltering in her step, dazed by what had just happened. A breeze blew through her hair, and the light of his new star glowed behind her golden locks. She looked... heavenly, he thought and he laughed giddily at the idea. She seemed to be speechless. He felt speechless, himself. But then her tentative smile vanished as her eyes grew wide in alarm and anger. A slow clap from behind sent a wave of unease crawling up his spine, and Chloe suddenly turned to run over toward a gun that had been remade a few feet to her right.

“So this is the power that rivals Father. What a spectacular display.” 

Turning, Lucifer saw Zerachiel surrounded by a handful of brainwashed fallen warriors whose flesh was still marred by decay. Rage surged through him. Apparently, even though the opportunistic coward had fled the pocket universe when everything started to crumble, taking a handful of soldiers with him, he hadn’t gone far. And now that the fireworks were over with, he came back.  
  
“You forgot to rebuild my fortress.” He teased as he advanced.  
  
Lucifer tried to stand. He could still remember the blade in his back from their last encounter, and a phantom pain shot through him. He still needed to even the score, but his legs didn’t want to cooperate, and if he attacked Zerachiel, who would protect Mī?  
  
“You have a lot of nerve coming back here.” Amenadiel bellowed, stepping away from Daniel and flexing his muscles. “I’m going to enjoy taking you down.”  
  
“Not if I get to him first!” Ella snapped as she balled her fists. “No one messes with my friends!” She grabbed at a blade which lay at her feet as she spoke.  
  
“You really think you can get away with this?” Daniel challenged. “You shouldn’t have come back.”  
  
Zerachiel laughed. “This is my home. And you are mine.” He jeered. Lucifer’s eyes flared even as he forced back a spike of fear over what was said and Amenadiel charged. But Zerachiel just stood his ground and lifted his hands. Then a surge of energy shot outward, spreading over the surrounding area.  
  
“No!” Lucifer found himself shouting.

_“You are all my subjects!” _The feathered tosser COMMANDED. _“And you are ready to kill and die for me.”_  
  
Amenadiel skidded to a stop as every human and fallen warrior drew or picked up a weapon, pointing them at one another with deadly intent; weapons Lucifer and Mī had recreated without even thinking about it. And now his friends were turning on one another.  
  
Amenadiel pulled back to stare in horror. “Why?”  
  
“Because I can.” Zerachiel replied viciously.

**_Title Song:_** [The End of the Dream](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=iQ5iuREPokw) by Evanescence (synth version)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bandile Adisa wakes up:  
😱😵😇  
🤼⚔️🤺  
👥😇😷👉😵😇✨😴😇  
👥😇🥺  
😡😇💪👉👥😇🥺  
👥😇🥺😭🤯🔥🌪  
...  
😇😇✨  
🌱🌿🌳🌲🌾🌷🌺🏔🌕🌞‼️  
😇👋  
😡😇➕👺👹‼️  
🤼⚔️🤺
> 
> Poor guy.  
He’s wondering what kind of drugs he is on by now.


	58. God Damned Miracle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long, but let’s deal with the bad guys, shall we?

Lucifer watched as his friends turned their weapons on one another, fixed, blank expressions on their faces. His eyes were glued to the Detective when she lifter her gun to point it at the vacantly staring Daniel.  
  
“You filthy mingebag!” Lucifer snarled from where he sat holding his brother. “Release them!” There was a desperate edge to his voice. He knew he had no bargaining power. He was exhausted and Mī... his brother’s eyes were weakly fluttering, but he seemed too out of it to realize what was happening.  
  
“Why ever would I do that? I’ve finally found out how to control you.” The wretched ‘angel’ laughed.  
  
“This is wrong, and you know it!” Amenadiel exclaimed.  
  
Zerachiel didn’t even spare his eldest brother a glance as he stalked toward Lucifer and the mostly unconscious Mîchael, grin growing more and more unnaturally wide. “You don’t get to lecture _me _about right and wrong. I’m doing what _must _be done.”  
  
As Lucifer positioned himself between the advancing threat and his helpless brother, he continued to glare with hell fire eyes. “Control… you’ve always been obsessed with it. And now you’ve lost it, Zerachiel. You’ve become the very thing you claim to hate. You want to overthrow Dad because He denied us freewill, but now, you’ve taken that very freedom away from others.”  
  
Zerachiel’s eye twitched and his muscles tensed with pent up rage. “Only because you won’t cooperate! Don’t you see? I _need_ the power you and Mîchael possess. With that, we can finally see our rebellion complete!” Hearing those words, Lucifer felt a familiar bite of guilt and he brought one hand over his Mī, as if the act could somehow undo all the damage he had indirectly caused by challenging his Dad. 

Zerachiel kept talking. “But you won’t cooperate without incentive.” He sneered. Then, looking around at his new toys, his eyes landed on Chloe, and Lucifer felt nauseous. His brother’s expression was filthy. It was vile. “Detective Chloe Decker, come here.” Zerachiel nearly sang.  
  
“Don’t you _DARE!” _Lucifer roared, feeling his heart accelerate as his breathing became labored.  
  
“Zerachiel, no! Not her!” Amenadiel thundered. The Fist of God started to advance, but as he did so, the enslaved humans and fallen responded by turning on one another, and he stopped short, a helpless look in his furious eyes.  
  
The Detective lowered her gun and walked toward him, slowly but purposefully, smiling as she approached.  
  
“Yes. Her. Father’s miracle. I can’t wait to find out what makes her so special. What gave her the power to tame the wild Devil?” Lucifer’s stomach did flip flops.  
  
“Leave her alone! Don’t you touch her!” His voice was cracking, and he started to climb to his feet, desperate to do something to intervene...  
  
“Be _still!” _Zerachiel snapped, “Unless you want me to COMMAND her to start shooting your friends.” Lucifer froze, terror and confusion rendering him helpless. “I won’t hurt her.” The maggot crooned. “In fact, she’ll be _begging_ me for attention.”

“Sam?” Mī’s weak voice drifted up from where he lay, and Lucifer broke. He was failing to protect him. He failed to protect Chloe.  
  
“Please…” He was begging now… but Zerachiel wasn’t looking at him. He only had eyes for the Detective.

***

_“Chloe Decker, you love me, and no other. Tell that foolish Devil what you really think of him.” _There was something odd in the tone of his voice, and Chloe understood, he thought he had given another ‘irrefutable’ command.

Chloe thought about the insanity of the last few minutes, her mind working in overdrive. She had stared in horror as Dan and Ella suddenly became vacant eyed. Everyone, angel and human alike, save the archangels, suddenly stopped what they were doing to become passive… obedient and quiet. It was because of Zerachiel. He turned everyone into mindless puppets… except for her.  
  
_“You are not beholden to anyone._   
  
Michael’s words came back to her with force. Understanding started to set in as she remembered the first time she and Lucifer met.  
_  
“Tell me, Detective, what do you desire more than anything else in this life?  
  
“This is it? This is your big trick?”  
  
Lucifer looked at her in surprise, smug grin slipping off his face to be replaced by confusion, then delighted intrigue. “You’re not like a Jedi or something, are you?”_  
  
Celestials couldn’t influence her. Zerachiel’s ‘big trick’ didn’t work on her, either… but he didn’t know that. None of them did. Her hand tightened around the Glock with this realization. It was going to be up to her to fix this. 

All she wanted to do since she first crossed the threshold into this other world was pump him full of bullets, but there was always someone in the way, and whether it was because of Amenadiel, Ella, or his myriad of soldiers, she never had a clean shot. Even now, he had four guards around him. And she only had two bullets. So she played along, waiting for a chance to get close. Then, when he said those words, she knew what to do.  
  
Smiling deceptively, she walked across the grass. “Oh, but you know what I think, don’t you?” She cooed. “I deserve better than a back-stabbing traitor who runs away from his problems and can’t see past his own issues, constantly projecting his wickedness onto others.” She smirked smugly at him as she closed the distance. “I deserve someone who knows the difference between right and wrong, someone willing to do what must be done for the good of others, even when it hurts.” She slid up to Zerachiel, forcing herself not to look at Lucifer, blocking out his heart-broken cry.  
  
“Smart girl. I see what you like about her.” Zerachiel jeered, putting his hand on her shoulder.  
  
“Chloe?” She heard her partner pleading, as she brought one hand up to brush Zerachiel’s cheek in the same way she had brushed Lucifer’s so many times. Zerachiel returned her gaze with a triumphant leer. There was no affection in his eyes. No tenderness in his touch.  
  
The sound of her weapon firing into his gut tore through the air, startling everyone, especially Zerachiel, whose expression went from greedy to bewildered and confused, before settling on horror as he staggered back. He looked down, his hand going to his stomach where blood was starting to blossom onto his shirt.

The zombie angels guarding him staggered back as well, almost as if they, too had been shot, disoriented expressions momentarily taking hold. The four turned their weapons her way, but they didn’t attack... it was almost like they didn’t want to. Instead of defending him, they just turned to their master, passively awaiting instruction.  
  
For a moment, no one moved or said anything. Then Zerachiel looked at her, an almost child-like hurt in his eyes as he cringed in pain and fell onto his back. “Why? How?” He croaked.  
  
Chloe simply pointed the gun at his head. “Didn’t anyone tell you?” Her finger tightened on the trigger. “I’m a God damned miracle.” Zerachiel’s eyes widened with wild terror and Chloe hesitated. Killing in cold blood went against all her instincts, but then, before she could will herself to finish it, she felt a light touch on her forearm. Faltering, she turned to see Michael, barely able to stand, unlit sword in his shaking hand and tears in his eyes.  
  
They looked at one another. Michael swallowed as resolve hardened his expression and she stepped aside. He needed to do this himself. As she moved back, she kept the Glock leveled on her target. Zerachiel rolled over to see Michael kneeling beside him, and his eyes widened with hope.

“Mîkā’el?” He choked as he reached a hand toward his brother, affection softened his eyes. “Heal me, please. You know I love you. I’m only trying to save our brothers and sisters...” He convulsed and wheezed. Michael let him take his trembling hand... tears slipping from his eyes.

For a moment, he didn’t say or do anything, and Zerachiel’s expression shifted. The archangel was struggling. He was shaking and gasping unevenly for breath, and something that looked suspiciously like guilt flitted across the dying angel’s features.

“Brother?” Zerachiel pleaded weakly. Then he seemed to grow angry. “Father did this to you.”

Lucifer was at Chloe’s side, eyes blazing as he advanced, but then Michael spoke, voice soft and broken, stopping him in his tracks.

“Father... has... _no_ say here. This... is not... His realm.” He sniffed, fist clenching and unclenching before he continued. “This is me. It’s always... been me.” He fell quiet again and Zerachiel shook his head.

“No, you...” More wheezing. A line of blood started to trail from the corner of his mouth.

“You never wanted to hear it, so you spun stories to justify what you were doing. You said you were trying to free me, but all you did was chip away at my soul.” A soft sob escaped his lips and Zerachiel started to tear up in response. 

“But... I was only...” More convulsions.

“You hurt me, you stole my light, you used...” He shuddered, bringing his free hand to clench at his chest as his narrative fell apart. Then he lifted his blade, taking Zerachiel’s hand, and wrapped it around the hilt.

“I had to... don’t you see?” Zerachiel begged in a raspy voice, eyes falling to the celestial blade in panicked confusion.

“I do... I see that... that I... I will... _never _be... be the same.” He curled in, even as his grip tightened around his brother’s hand. “That is what your _love _has done.” Michael grabbed his bleeding brother and pulled him into a sitting position, tenderly supporting him, even as he shook. Zerachiel was crying openly now, still shaking his head as his breathing grew more ragged and another tremor ripped through his body. Michael continued. “You said you wanted to give me choice. So here... You have to choose now. Bleed out and go to Hell, or end it all, accepting nonexistence.”

Zerachiel looked at the blade Michael was helping him hold, disbelief and sorrow in his eyes. Chloe felt a hand in hers, and looking over she saw Lucifer watching the two, his eyes still ablaze, even as a heaviness beset his posture. Chloe wrapped her arm around him, and his weight fell into her. A single tear slipped silently from his burning eye.

“Two terrible options... neither... right, but you have to choose, because there are no happy endings.” Michael concluded, his voice shaky and coarse.

Zerachiel choked, coughing up blood. “What’s to stop me from telling them all to kill one another if you don’t heal me?” He challenged weakly. 

Chloe cocked the gun, her steady hand trained on him as she brought her other one back to the handle.

Michael sighed. “Speak one utterance of COMMAND, and your life will end before you finish.” He replied harshly.

Zerachiel looked between him and Chloe, understanding sinking in, then he took his free hand and placed it over his brother’s, the one holding the blade. “Will you stay with me?”

“Yes.”

“Then do it. If you...” He closed his eyes as he struggled to breathe. Then opening them again, remorse etched into his face along with the pain. “If you truly believe I deserve it.” He heaved. “Because if you don’t end this now...” He coughed. “I... will never stop.”

Michael nodded, then together they lifted the blade, not to his chest as Chloe expected, but up to where his left shoulder met the neck. Zerachiel closed his eyes as his hands started to tremble.

“I remember all of their names...” Michael whispered. Zerachiel blinked weakly in confusion. “The children you saved. Every one of them in Heaven. Because of you.”

“W...?” The dying angel choked, a ghost of a smile crossing his face before a bout of coughing took over. Then the blade descended. Zerachiel gasped once, then he grew limp, and Michael held him as he promised he would, sobs wracking his body.

“Etienne, Adeline, Aldo, Vashti... Zara... so many...” 

Chloe was surprised when she felt the lump in her throat. At her side, Lucifer swallowed hard and she heard a soft vocalization as he forced back his own mixed feelings.

“I knew it was you who saved them from guilt... you saved their innocent souls.” Zerachiel wasn’t breathing anymore, and Michael lowered him to the ground. “I will.. try... to remember you that way.” He brought a trembling hand over his dead brother’s eyes, closing them.

A breeze blew through her hair. The new sun warmed her back. She lowered the gun, feeling its weight. She took a deep breath as Michael sat next to the one who had caused him so much grief, silently mourning the person he used to be. Chloe wished she could be happy about this.

“Umm... what just happened?” Ella blurted.  
  
Chloe turned to see Dan and Ella blinking owlishly, coming out of the daze they had been in, confused expressions on their faces. The stranger at their side had his eyes screwed shut and he was muttering something to himself. All around, humans and angels alike were coming out of the haze, startled and dumbfounded. 

Chloe looked at Lucifer. His jaw was set, a cold hard satisfaction in his eyes... but it was mixed with a deeper pain she couldn’t place. As she gazed his way, the image of him lying in the snow as blood pooled around him and his wings spasmed flashed in her memory, and tears spilled onto her cheeks. They did it. They won, but... Lucifer’s attention shifted to her and his eyes softened.

“Detective... I...”  
  
“Wow, this place was really hard to find.” A new voice marveled, and as she turned, she saw a diminutive black winged angel walking up with Maze at her side, an annoyed expression on the demon’s face. The new angel had short dark hair and an almost child-like face. 

“Yeah, La Petite Mort got lost.” Maze teased as she noticed all eyes locking onto them. The angel groaned.

“Don’t call me...”  
  
“Rae-Rae?!?” Ella exclaimed at the same moment Michael pulled back, saying, “Azrael?”  
  
“Ella?” Rae-Rae - Azrael? - gasped, followed immediately by, “Michael!”

“Maze!” Lucifer elated, his mood instantly improving upon seeing her. “Where’ve you been, you wonderful demon?”

“Dealing with the torture angel... until Gabby showed up to take my toy away. So I decided to come help. That’s when I bumped into Ghost Buster, here.” She elbowed the small angel.  
  
A flurry of exclamations, lots of gawking, and a confused explanation consumed the next few minutes. As it turned out, Ella’s ‘ghost’ friend was actually the Angel of Death. They also learned that the archangel Gabriel ‘Gabby?’ was taking care of “garbage disposal,” - he was dealing with Sandalphon while Remiel was sent to retrieve Raziel - oh, and God, it seemed, wanted to talk to Michael. And Lucifer...  
  
“Oh?” Lucifer’s voice raised challengingly as he stepped forward, taking Michael by the wrist to guide him back, essentially acting as a kind of shield.  
  
“Father said he was requesting that… you… and Michael… meet him by the pearly gates for a... um... little chat.” She cringed even as she said it. “His request came just after Maze found me.”  
  
“No!” Lucifer snapped at the same instant Michael replied, “Of course.”  
  
Lucifer whirled on his twin, clearly hurt. “You’re just going to go crawling back to Him?” He demanded, voice edged with pain.

Chloe found she was in agreement, there. So was Maze, apparently, because the demon turned on the Angel of Death and snarled. 

“He can’t have him!” She growled, and Azrael raised her hands in a calming gesture.

“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger!” She chided.  
  
“He just wants to talk.” Michael sighed. Lucifer’s bravado deflated as he turned pleading eyes on his twin, but his silent plea was met with a sorrowful, broken, exhausted expression, and Lucifer crumbled even more. “Sam... Please...” a stray tear fell to the grass.  
  
Lucifer exhaled, his breath shaking as he did so. “I... I suppose if we make a quick stop, it would help to replenish our lost energy.” He took his brother’s hand. “Just a little chit chat, and Bob’s your uncle.” He said to Azrael, sternly.  
  
“We don’t have an uncle.” Michael remarked in confusion. 

Lucifer shook his head. “It’s an expression, Mī.” Then he pulled his brother into a firm embrace. “But fine. We can go, if only so I can tell Him off one more time.”

Maze snorted and crossed her arms. “You’re being idiots.” She huffed.

Michael smiled sadly at her as he wrapped his arms around his brother and Lucifer unfurled his wings. Azrael stared at the two, pointing disbelievingly as the Devil brought his wings down in a mighty thrust, and just like that, they were gone.  
  
“Okay, I’m definitely missing something, here.” She declared. “Since when have Lu and Mikey been getting along?”  
  
Ella marched up and smacked her on the back of her head. “Since when was lying about being a ghost the kind of thing a good friend did?” She retorted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chloe: I’m a GD Miracle! 😠👊  
Dan: 😪 That’s my gun.  
Mi: 😴😯🥺😖🗡🥺🥺🥺  
Luci: 😡🥺  
Maze: I missed all the action! 😤  
Ella: 😶 You’re not a ghost!?!? 😡  
Azrael: 😰 Dad wants to talk. 😬  
Maze: _My_ murder angel! 🤬  
Luci: Don’t leave me! 😭  
Mi: 🥺🥺🥺  
Adisa: 😖 I’m just waiting for the drugs to wear off.  
Amenadiel: 😕 Was I completely useless here?  
Everyone else: 🎶 Ding Dong, the witch is dead! 🎵
> 
> Somewhere else...  
Gabe: ☄️💥🤬🤬🤬  
Sandi: Oh, $#!+😱  
Remi: Pay back time! 😠👊  
Raz: 😖😖😖  
God: 🧐 Did I ever offer any comfort to my son? Oops! 😫


	59. Butterfly Effect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First, our boys have a chat with Daddy... then we get... Fluff!

Lucifer watched as their Dad embraced Mîchael. He knew it was what his brother wanted, but it filled him with rage. Rage he kept contained for his brother’s sake. Why did Mī seek out comfort from the same being who abandoned him, who allowed him to suffer? Their Dad could’ve stopped it, He could’ve made it so none of it ever happened. He could still do that now! If it bothered Him so much so see His Golden Angel in so much pain, why not just fix it?  
  
“I’ve got you.” God reassured soothingly as Mîchael collapsed into him, shaking and weeping.  
  
“I… I’m sorry, I failed you… I’m no good to you now... I’m sorry, Father… I...” His brother whispered these words, even as he buried his face in the undeserving Deity’s chest.  
  
Lucifer stood there, staring at the display of Fatherly affection with a mixture of disgust and longing. It’d been so long since anyone treated him like that, and even as he wanted to be as far from their Dad as possible, a part of him shamefully longed to be held, to be reassured… even if it was just a lie. And it _was _a lie. The whole display was a sham. Daddy Dearest needed to bring His commander home, so He was playing the part of a loving Father. 

“You have nothing to apologize for, my son.” The Creator reassured, rubbing circles on his back.  
  
Lucifer seethed. He wasn’t going to let Him deceive his Mī just so He could continue to use him. “Well, we can agree on that, at least.” Lucifer scoffed. The Presence looked at him sadly as He continued to embrace Mī. “He owes you nothing. He gave everything for you, and you left him to suffer. _You’re_ the one who needs to be apologizing!”   
  
Mîchael pulled back from their Father, tears still in his eyes as he looked back and forth between the two, confused and lost all over again. His breathing grew more labored, and Lucifer suddenly felt terrible. He hurt his brother.  
  
“I _am_ sorry this happened.” God replied, sounding sincere. “And you’re right, I can fix everything… if that’s really what you two want.” As He spoke, He stepped away from Mîchael so He could properly address them both.  
  
Mī stepped back as well. “Fix it?” He voiced tentatively, confused eyes flitting between the two as Lucifer took his hand.  
  
“And why ever would we _not_ want you to fix it? I’m not buying it, and I’m not about to fall for your bloody mind games.” Lucifer snapped, stepping forward to place himself between his Mī and their rotten Father.  
  
God shook His head. “Just try to hear me out, Samael.” He replied.  
  
“It’s _Lucifer.”_ He growled back.  
  
“Sam, please.” His twin implored softly.  
  
Lucifer turned toward his hurting brother again, ready to refuse, but... those sad puppy eyes were locked onto him, and he crumbled. “Fine. Out with it, Old Man.” Lucifer grumbled.  
  
God crossed his arms and exhaled, ironically glancing skyward as He did so. “As you know, I can see all possible futures, and I can make decisions to influence things in advance to guide a specific future into being. Or to prevent one. As such, you might say the ‘Me’ of the past is having this conversation with you just as much as the ‘Me’ of right now. If you want, you can request that I take measures to make sure this never happens.” He looked pointedly at them both.  
  
“Obviously.” Lucifer groused, not impressed.  
  
“So if I ask, you’ll make it so…” His brother trailed off, still unable to put what happened to him into words.  
  
God nodded. “But it comes at a price.”

“Everything with you does.” Lucifer snarled. “Don’t think for a minute that our little pow wow earlier has changed my mind about you.” 

Their Dad offered him a slight nod before continuing. “You’ll lose the memories, the trauma, and everything bad that has happened over the last six years will never have been. But none of the good will have happened either. You’ll lose everything you’ve gained as well. Like the butterfly beating its wings in Australia creating a hurricane in Florida, every change has profound consequences.” He explained solemnly.  
  
Lucifer felt a tremor, and his heart started to pound. The past six years on Earth? He wouldn’t know the Detective anymore. His Mī would’ve never sought him out. He didn’t want to lose that. He didn’t want to go back to the way things were before. But then he looked at his brother. His Mī was trembling and shaking his head as his breathing grew uneven. No. He didn’t want to see his brother broken anymore. After all, he would probably still meet the Detective, seeing as it was part of Dead Old Dad’s Plan. Lucifer closed his eyes, stealing himself. “As much as I hate to say it, I... I can’t...” He took a deep breath. “I can’t see my brother suffer just so I can be happy. Mī, the choice is yours.”   
  
God nodded. “What would you have me do, Mîchael?”  
  
His twin screwed his eyes tightly shut and clenched his jaw. For a long time, he didn’t say or do anything, then finally, he looked at God ardently. “Please, tell me, my daughter... Is she…?”  
  
Lucifer pulled back, equal parts shocked and horrified. Daughter? Had that filthy mingebag actually succeeded?   
  
Their Father, of course, was not surprised by the question. “Elaine is with the human parents Zerachiel selected for her, and as it turns out, he made a decent choice. Mr. and Mrs. Belloc are good people and they adore her. She will be very powerful in time, and her existence will change everything.”  
  
Mîchael choked on a sob, smiling even as his tears fell more freely and his knees buckled. Lucifer wrapped his arms around his twin to support him, feeling an immense need to protect him as a weight settled over his heart. A Daughter... After a moment, his Mī steadied, and he brought his hand up to push back as he straightened, but he kept it on Lucifer’s shoulder. Then he turned back to face their Dad. “Thank you.” He swallowed a couple times and wiped the tears away. “I… I think it’s a small price to pay to endure this pain if it means she can live.”  
  
The Presence nodded knowingly. Then He turned His attention to Lucifer. “So, you see now where everything leads, Samael. Mîchael is ready to accept the price. Is this still what you want?”  
  
Lucifer tilted his head, confused for a moment, but then understanding came crashing down. His Dad was asking him is there was anything… _ANYTHING_ he wanted Him to change. He suddenly felt like Marty McFly with the time machine, or Aladdin finding the Lamp. But then he remembered the comment about consequences and the bloody butterfly in Australia.  
  
The butterfly was flapping its wings…  
  
What ripples would he create?  
  
How would he… how would _any_ of them change… and suddenly, he started to laugh, realizing what he was about to say. Dear Old Dad was at it again with His mind games. And the clever Wanker found a way to change the rules by making it so it was Lucifer’s choice from the start.   
  
The butterfly was flapping its wings…  
  
“No, I think I actually like things the way they are.” He shook his head, bemused, then he snorted at the Creator of the Universe. “Well played, Old Man.”  
  
God smiled benevolently, nodding once, then he turned to leave.  
  
Lucifer startled and took a half step forward, more on impulse than anything. “You’re leaving?”  
  
“You’re welcome to come with me. The choice is, and always will be yours, but I suspect you would rather lead your own lives.” He shrugged.  
  
No. This didn’t make sense. It was too good to be true. There was a catch, there was always a catch! But… that wasn’t actually true, was it? “So… you’re just giving us our freedom? What is this going to cost us?”  
  
“I’m not giving you anything.” Their Dad countered, and Lucifer’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “I cannot give you something you already possess. But you’re right. Nothing comes free, especially freedom.” He looked pointedly at His wayward son, and smiled reassuringly. “But, you’ve both already paid the price of freewill, and you will continue to do so as long as you are willing to remain free. Freedom comes with hardship, but that’s not something you pay to me, it’s just the way things are, because when you and those around you are free, you’re free to make good and bad choices alike... In the past, I tried to decide for you, but...” He paused, a wistful look in His eyes. “If you’re both willing to live with the pain, then you have my blessing.” He smiled at them, clearly amused by the owlish look of bewilderment that Lucifer knew he was making. “But please, stop blaming me for everything, and don’t be a stranger.” He chuckled.  
  
“What about Hell? It needs a King. What about Heaven, don’t you need a commander?” He was grasping for understanding. Then he felt Mîchael’s hand at his back, and he turned to see him smiling softly at him, as if this all made perfect sense to him. Bloody hell, he was probably in on the scheme! Lucifer was floundering for understanding.  
  
“You will always be Hell’s ruler, and Mîchael, your position here will always be open to you if you wish to retake it… but if you want to take time off, well...” God started to smirk ruefully as he glanced over his shoulder toward the Silver City. “You do have a lot… and I mean a _lot _of siblings. Maybe it’s time for some of them to grow up a little and take on a bit more responsibility.” He grinned, then His expression softened. “I’m so very proud of you both.” And with that, He was gone.  
  
Lucifer was speechless. What just happened? He didn’t understand... turning again, he saw Mī watching him with an amused twinkle in his eyes. “You really don’t trust Father at all, do you?” He shook his head. Lucifer grew still. There was something different about him. He was standing slightly straighter, and the edge of tension that had been ever present was… not gone, but less. Lucifer’s brow furrowed.  
  
“You’re okay now?” Lucifer queried, uncertain. A few moments back, he was crying almost uncontrollably, and now he seemed…_ almost _fine and dandy. He knew his twin was unstable… but bipolar? “So, what, you get a hug from Daddy, and just like that, you’re all better?”  
  
Mîchael was silent for a minute, then he flashed a genuine smile. “I made a choice.” He sounded almost awestruck over that simple statement. “And... It feels... _good.”_ He looked around, like he was seeing creation differently, like he found it to be more beautiful, and Lucifer understood. His Mī had felt trapped for a long time until now. It did indeed feel good to know that one had some say over what happened… no longer at someone else’s mercy. His twin took his hand. “And… I feel... the choice I’ve made is the right one.” He swallowed again and took a deep breath, then his smile brightened. “I haven’t been able to really appreciate your light in such a long time, Sammy. Yours is still the brightest.”  
  
“Uh-huh.” Light. When Mîchael talked of light... “What aren’t you telling me right now?” Lucifer ventured, afraid to voice his hope out loud in case he was wrong. 

In answer to this question, Mîchael unfurled his wings. They spread out behind him, pristine and shining and every bit as splendid as he remembered. Lucifer found himself smiling back. There was the brother he knew… still hurting, but strong. 

“It’s good to see you again too.” Lucifer breathed and his brother’s smile turned almost bashfully. “Let’s go. The others are probably wondering about us.” He suggested, unfurling his own wings. Mī nodded his agreement and the two left the edge of the Heavenly plane together to return to the life they chose for themselves.  
  
***  
  
Chloe sat in the grass by the pool. She was tired, overwhelmed, and still processing the fact that she wasn’t on Earth... That her ridiculous partner and his clueless twin made… _everything_ here. The grass… the sky, the birds… the _sun…_ And she watched them do it! 

Glancing over at the others, she sighed. Dan was explaining things to Bandile Adisa, Maze was badgering Amenadiel about being useless, and Ella was still lecturing her friend, ‘the Ghost’ about honesty. The Angel of Death had her head bowed in shame. Seeing a being with so much power cowed by the petite scientist was rather funny, and Chloe snorted. How many times had Lucifer – the actual Devil – been cowed by her: Chloe Plane Jane Decker? She started to laugh as she laid back in the perfect, cool, green grass when suddenly she heard the whoosh of angel wings, and following the sound, she found herself staring in awe. She wasn’t the only one, either. Dan and Adisa gaped, Ella let out an elated squeak, and even Maze’s eyebrows shot into her hairline.  
  
The Golden Angel and the Lightbringer arrived side by side, wings spread out behind them. Lucifer’s wings were ablaze with an otherworldly glow, and Michael’s wings reflected his light, creating a golden hue that seemed to surround them both... like honest to their Dad... _haloes!_ Majestic didn’t cover it, and Chloe finally understood what Lucifer meant when he said people were often overcome by an irrational desire to worship when faced with divinity.  
  
The twin angels looked around as they touched down, and Lucifer started to laugh. “Why, I believe we may be a bit much for them, Mī!” He preened, and Michael shook his head.  
  
This snapped Chloe out of it. Because, of course the self-absorbed ass was loving the attention. “Nah, I was just noticing that a couple feathers are out of place.” She remarked, grinning.  
  
“What?” Lucifer indignantly whirled around, looking for the offending imperfection.  
  
Michael folded his wings away and laughed at his brother. Then he brought his hand up and ruffled Lucifer’s hair, leaving it in disarray. “And now your hair matches.” He joked. Lucifer glared at him, but before he could reply Ella was throwing her arms around Michael, gushing about his wings, and Chloe was wrapping hers around her own fluffy angel while burying her face in his chest.  
  
“Don’t worry,” She teased, pulling back to look at him. “You’re still the prettiest thing around.” As she spoke, she ruffled his hair even more. 

Lucifer huffed, but as his eyes locked with hers, the indignation melted away and his features softened, taking on an almost melancholy air. “I thought I lost you.” He brought his hand to her cheek.  
  
“I thought I lost you, too.” She replied, biting her lower lip as she rested her hand on the familiar coarseness of his scruff. For a moment, they just gazed at one another, until Lucifer blinked in alarm.

“Did we just say that?” He balked. “What is this, a B-rated chick flick?” 

Chloe giggled in reply. “Shut up and kiss me.”  
  
More than happy to comply, Lucifer leaned in, a wonderstruck look in his eyes, and it filled her heart to bursting to be looked at this way by her impossible, beautiful, passionate, dork of a celestial. Her Lightbringer.  
  
Her Lucifer.

As their lips locked, she felt his wings closing in around them, warm, light, and soft. Chloe could get used to this. She deepened the kiss and he responded in kind, and as they explored one another, caught in a delirium of passion, they lost track of time, only pulling apart when they heard Ella coughing melodramatically.  
  
“You guys really need to get a room.” She jabbed. “Not Linda’s this time.” She added with a grin. “Heck, you could probably_ make _one.” Lucifer heaved dramatically as he stepped back.  
  
“Believe it or not, Miss Lopez, I’ve no interest in playing G...” His retort fell flat as his eyes grew wide in dismayed alarm. “Bloody Hell, I forgot to punch Him!” He lamented.

“What?” Chloe laughed.

“Dad!” He bemoaned loudly, drawing everyone else’s attention. “I had two chances, and I wasted them!” He threw his arms up, huffing in frustration, but before he could continue his tirade, Dan chimed in with a chuckle.

“Don’t worry. Chlo got Him for you.” 

Lucifer’s eyebrows shot up, his gaze darting between Chloe and her ex. After a moment, a mischievous grin stretched his lips and his eyes twinkled. “Did you now?” He inquired of her. She beamed proudly back, amused by how pleased he was, while Amenadiel Michael and Ella nodded emphatically.

“I’m not sure Father deserved it, but yes, she decked him.” Amenadiel confirmed, covering his mouth with his hand as if this could somehow hide the smile he was fighting. Lucifer lit up, nearly soaring where he stood.

“Well done, Decker!” Maze praised as she companionably slapped her on the back.

“You really_ are_ a miracle!” Her partner breathed affectionately, drawing her attention back. The way he looked at her, it felt almost as if _she _was the one with insane celestial powers, and she blushed under his awestruck gaze. 

“Ah... yeah...” Chloe pulled back, feeling embarrassed by all the attention, but she kept her hand in his, their fingers interlaced. “Can we go home now?” She asked as exhaustion beset her. It had been an impossibly long day, and she_ really_ needed some R and R. Preferably with Lucifer.  
  
“Yes.” Michael said from behind her. “We can go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 chapters left! Huzzah! 😃😃😃
> 
> Lucifer has a lot to think about now...
> 
> Yay! Wingies! 😇😇
> 
> And Deckerstar smooch and banter! 😈❤️🕵️
> 
> This chapter makes me happy. ☺️
> 
> Comments appreciated! Love you all. 😘


	60. Take Me To Church

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> God talks to His kids. God spies on His other kids.

Having made His way to the Silver City, the first thing the Father of Creation did was return to His study for a moment of peace and quiet so He could focus on the Earthly Plane. He had been looking forward to this moment, and He wasn’t about to let His children spoil the fun. No matter how many questions they had. Questions could wait.  
  
Samael, Mîchael, and Amenadiel, along with Chloe Decker, Ella Lopez, Daniel, and the demon Mazikeen were standing in the downpour which had long since washed the snow away, while awaiting their rendezvous. 

Azrael had already left, returning to her duties, not the least of which involved dealing with all the souls of the Fallen which Mîchael and Mazikeen went through upon their arrival, and as a favor to Him, she beelined to South Africa to drop off Bandile Adisa, who was very much in need of a break now.  
  
***  
  
“Why does it have to be raining cats and dogs out here?” Daniel heaved, glancing upward in frustration as he closed his arms around his chest to try to preserve heat.

Mîchael startled at his words. “The poor creatures!” Drawing the odd stuffed alien toy he was holding to his chest, he looked frantically about for said animals he now believed were plummeting to their doom.  
  
Mazikeen set her bike down on the road and chuckled at him. “It’s really an amazing sight.” She smirked viciously. “Your Daddy can be so cru...” Ella Lopez punched the demon in the arm.  
  
“She’s kidding.” The scientist informed, offering the demon a pointed glare which earned her a toothy grin in reply.

Chloe Decker sighed. “It’s just an expression.”

As she spoke, Samael laughed. “Actually, there are Hell Loops...” His comment trailed off as they spotted the truck pulling up, with Robert Fisher smiling widely at them from behind the wheel. “Oh, finally, we can get out of this bloody rain!” The Lightbringer declared.

As Fisher stepped out, his eyes landed on the twins, causing him to do a double take. Eventually, his eyes locked onto Mîchael, and a gentle smile settled over his face.  
  
“You seem to be doing much better, son.” He breathed. Then looking at Samael, “The brother?”  
  
Mîchael nodded. Then, before he could do or say anything further, the aging human had his arms wrapped around him in a fierce bear hug…  
  
***  
  
“Father? We’ve brought Raziel for you.” God heard Gabriel saying from behind. Sighing, He turned His attention back to the here and now to see Gabriel, with Remiel at his side, dragging a very meek Raziel behind her. Oh, well. This was important.  
  
Turning to face them fully, The Lord adopted a stern expression. “Well, daughter, what do you have to say for yourself?”   
  
Gabriel stepped aside, fury simmering just below the surface as Remiel thrust the Angel of Secrets forward while moving to create a barrier between her and the only exit, a contemptuous look in her eyes.  
  
“I…” Raziel glanced around, and her demeanor shrank even further. “I was fulfilling Uriel’s vision. I was doing it for you.” She explained weakly.  
  
“Uriel’s vision? Uriel didn’t have visions. He saw patterns and predicted likely futures. There’s a difference. If he truly knew the future, Samael never would’ve been a threat to him. Yet you still thought that his ideas were founded… even after he got himself wiped from existence.” God remarked harshly. Usually, lecturing misguided angels was one of Mîchael’s tasks… but, alas, that wasn’t happening now.  
  
“I’m sorry.” She choked. “But… it worked, didn’t it?” She tried, desperate eyes pleading. “They’re together again, and they tapped into their higher gifts, unlocking their potential. And…”  
  
“And now, I have two vacancies in need of filling.” The Presence interjected. Raziel’s head hung. “And though I’m not _quite _as ready to retire as Uriel assumed, my plans to do so are further away than ever.” He gave her a withering scowl and she trembled. God sighed and rubbed His temples, a habit He picked up while on vacation. “Now, with Mîchael on Earth, I will be taking on a more active role as I train a new commander.”  
  
Then He turned His gaze to Gabriel. “Congratulations, son.”  
  
Gabriel gawked at Him. “What? Me? But I don’t _want _the job!” He exclaimed, taking a step back and looking thoroughly put out for an instant, before his expression quickly morphed into horror at his words when he realized this was exactly what his fallen brother had said shortly before the rebellion.  
  
God laughed at His dramatic child. “Are you questioning me?”   
  
“I… um…” Gabriel’s head hung as he struggled with his perceived error. “Yes.” He muttered forlornly.  
  
“Good, that’s part of the job. I think you’ll do nicely.” Gabriel just stared at Him in utter and complete confusion as God turned back to Raziel. “And seeing as what you’ve done has resulted in a need for new management downstairs I’ll have you packing your things and relieving Duma immediately.” He stated firmly.

Remiel lit up at this. “Please, allow me to escort her, Father!” The Creator nodded, and the Angel of the Hunt straighten with pride.  
  
Raziel panicked. “Is this to be my punishment? To be cast out like Lucifer? Please, Father…”  
  
“No punishment. Just the natural consequence for your actions. I will let Mîchael decide a fitting punishment when he is ready, seeing as he’s the one you wronged.” God replied casually. His children stared at Him in disbelief, Remiel being the only one pleased by His words. After a moment, Raziel stood on shaking legs and trudged out, looking as if lead weights were attached to her feet, and Remiel marched beside her smugly.  
  
Gabriel stepped forward, a questioning look in his eye as his sisters departed. “So... it’s okay for me to question you..?” He started tentatively. God nodded. “Good.” He stilled himself, swallowing a couple times. “What the actual Devil?!?” He exclaimed after amassing the courage to speak, throwing his hands up as he did so. “Lucifer and Mī on earth? How is this a good idea?” He demanded. Then lowering his voice, he added, “Is that a wise decision?”  
  
God shrugged. “Wise? No. But it’s going to be a great deal of fun watching them figure things out.” He chuckled and Gabriel’s eyes widened. “And on that note, I’m actually rather busy at the moment, so if you don’t mind…” And He waved His son off.  
  
Affronted, Gabriel gaped for a moment, then whirling on his heels in a rather dramatic fashion, he stomped out, muttering about the end times and old deities losing their marbles. God was already ignoring him by this point however, as His attention was once again cast downward.  
  
***  
  
“Where’s Michael?” Chloe suddenly wondered as she realized their group was short by one. 

_Hmm... Already out of the woods, were they? Somehow or other, they made it into the town of Lynden, God noted, mildly annoyed by the time difference. He supposed he could retrace their steps, but this was interesting, so... _

Everyone started looking around for the missing archangel. Everyone except Lucifer, who simply grinned. Chloe narrowed her eyes at her partner.  
  
“Oh, he headed into that church back there. Wanted to know what humans do to honor Dad, blah, blah, blah.” He pointed casually behind him as he spoke.  
  
“Awe. That’s so awesome! The Archangel Michael is in a church!” Ella enthused.  
  
“You let him go alone? What if he gets lost?” Chloe reprimanded.  
  
Amenadiel stilled briefly before bringing his hands together in prayer. “Father, help us!” He implored.

_God chuckled. He had no interest in interfering. _  
  
Everyone stared at Amenadiel in confusion. Everyone except Lucifer, who was still grinning.  
  
“What’s so bad about him being in a church?” Dan ventured warily.  
  
“Well, as I’m sure you know...” Amenadiel started apprehensively, “humanity has strayed a bit over the eons, and not everything said in a house of worship is an accurate reflection of Father’s word or will. How do you think the Prince of Heaven will respond to that?”   
  
Everyone suddenly looked worried. Everyone except Lucifer, who continued to grin.  
  
“Why, he’ll correct them, of course.” The Devil purred, looking to all the world like this was his intention to begin with. Chloe gaped at him and Dan glared. He put on an innocent face, tilting his head and looking upward ever so slightly as he did so. Chloe groaned.  
  
“So? Who cares if he lectures ’em? It’s not like anyone’ll take him seriously.” Ella reasoned.  
  
Maze started to laugh, a twisted delighted sound which bubbled up from her gut. _“He _cares.” She guffawed. “If they don’t take him seriously...”  
  
“Our brother is not subtle.” Amenadiel concluded, looking down the road with growing trepidation.  
  
Shit, Chloe thought as she connected the dots. And just like that, everyone was heading back the way they had come to try and find the church Michael wandered into. Everyone except Lucifer, who continued to wear that same shameless grin and mock innocent expression. Rolling her eyes, Chloe turned back and grabbed him by the wrist, roughly dragging him behind her. “Come on, Satan.” She snapped, yanking him along.  
  
“Detective!” Lucifer protested petulantly. “Careful with the suit, it’s Prada!” 

_God snickered at His silly child’s antics before redirecting His focus._  
  
Mîchael smiled as he stood by the door, Miss Alien firmly in his arm. A great many humans were gathered together in front of him, sitting in rows and facing a stage. This was what they did to give thanks for Creation? The archangel tilted his head, fascinated by the scene. One human was standing before the others, in middle of giving a speech.  
  
“...If a man lies with a male as with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination; they shall surely be put to death; their blood is upon them." Chapter 20 verse 13...” The preacher decreed. 

_Oh, dear. His son wasn’t going to be too fond of that._  
  
Mîchael frowned. Put to death? No, no, no. Killing was _wrong, _where did that man get such a ridiculous, hurtful notion from? Was it because of Gabriel’s temper tantrum? Sodom and Gomorrah flashed in his memory, and his hold on Miss Alien tightened as a range of unpleasant feelings surged forth, and he closed his eyes for a moment to focus on his breathing. The sermon continued.  
  
“... and remember, as the Bible says in Corinthians 11:3, ‘as the serpent deceived Eve by his craftiness, your minds will be led astray from the simplicity and purity of devotion to Christ.’ Do not let the Devil lead you to believe that such temptations can be anything but sinful...”  
  
The Defender of Heaven gaped. Everything that fool human said was utter poppycock! Was he blaming Samael for everyone’s flawed morality? No wonder his brother hand such a low opinion of himself! As he felt anger overcome his doubts, he glared at the twit on the stage, unable to tolerate another word.  
  
“No!” He declared loudly, his voice easily carrying over the preacher’s. Everyone turned to see him standing there, his free hand clenched into a fist, while the other encircled Miss Alien protectively, and a stormy expression fixed upon his face. “That’s going too far! No, no, no! What in all Creation do you think you’re saying?!? I thought churches were meant to be a place of learning, but this..?”  
  
“Son?” The self-important buffoon gave him a patronizing look. “Have you been tempted by the Adversary?” The idiot on the stage was really asking for it now, the archangel decided, with no small measure of annoyance. 

_God willed a bag of popcorn into His hands as He observed. _  
  
“Oh, certainly, but that’s what brothers do. Still, it’s harmless. What _you’re_ saying, however, is absolute balderdash. Hurtful and dangerous idiocy!” He retorted. The Preacher spared him an imperious glance.  
  
Several of the church-goers started to mutter judgmentally as the fool decided to correct him. “You only think that because you’ve been led astray by the Deceiver, my son.” He countered with false sympathy. “But I speak The Truth, as it is revealed to us in the Holy Bible.” The self-righteous human was addressing the room again, but Mîchael was NOT about to stand by and watch him feed these poor souls even one more word of such poison!  
  
Anger mounting, his wings unfurled. It was a twitch reflex, but their appearance certainly got results. Several humans cried out in alarm, many falling to their knees in reverence - or terror... maybe both. Still feeling insulted on his brother’s behalf, the archangel’s eyes flared up, glowing with divine fury. The result of this was for anyone not already prostrate in awe to kneel, throwing their hands together in prayer and crossing themselves. Then, just for effect, and because he figured it would help to make his point, he let a little of his gift slip out and small plants started to sprout in the floorboards. That definitely got their attention. Good.

“Listen well.” he commanded. His audience trembled in anticipation. “A genuine act of love is _never _sinful, so you can just forget all _that _nonsense. If you want to know what _is_ sinful, well, I’ll tell you. Intentionally and needlessly bringing unwanted pain to others, no matter the ‘justification,’ you conjure up... _that _is sinful.” He looked around the room, pleased to see many of them apparently in shock, among them, the terrified preacher. But he was just getting started.   
  
“And another thing.” he continued, eyeing them all indignantly. “You all need to stop blaming Samael for every wicked thing you do. All he does is help you realize what you want in life so you can more effectively pursue what brings you joy. It isn’t_ his _fault if the things you want are so awful. That’s on _you!” _

_God nodded in agreement._  
  
“Who... who are you, blessed angel?” The preacher yammered, still on his knees. Still trembling. Still an idiot.  
  
It was then that the door busted open and Miss Ella’s voice could be heard ringing clearly into the church. “Michael!” She exclaimed in alarm. The church goers gasped. “Put your wings away!” She rushed over to him, concern evident on her face... for some reason.  
  
“Miss Ella!” He beamed, all anger bleeding away as his scowl was replaced with an affectionate smile, and his hold on Miss Alien lessened. At her approach, his eyes returned to normal, the plants ceased to grow, and he happily tucked his wings away. “I was just correcting these humans...”  
  
His words were cut short as Amenadiel, Daniel, Detective Chloe, and Mazikeen rushed in, followed by a casually smirking Sam, who strolled in with his hands in his pockets and a twinkle in his eyes. Then before he knew it, the archangel found five sets of arms on him, as everyone hurriedly ushered him out. Everyone except Samael, who couldn’t seem to stop grinning.

“What?” Mîchael managed as he was quickly led away, glancing in confusion over his shoulder at the gawking humans in the pews. 

_Sitting back in His favorite chair, the Lord smiled and shook His head. It was nice to see His son reclaiming some of his spark, and those humans certainly deserved the lecture. _

Lucifer watched the procession with amusement, his grin spreading when Amenadiel popped his head back in, apologizing to the church goers.  
  
“I’m terribly sorry about this, it won’t happen again.” He promised, closing the door behind him, and completely forgetting about the mischievous Devil.  
  
Standing by the door, Lucifer chuckled. Every eye was on him. The others left. He was in a church. Without a chaperone. He had a captive audience. Smiling wickedly, he lifted one finger as he prepared to lay them low with an ungodly string of puns. 

“You have to admit, he would make a great... _wingman!” _He raised an eyebrow expectantly. The humans stared, a few mouths dropped open. One blinked. “Even if he was... _winging_ it,” A woman rolled her eyes, but the rest were still frozen and silent. How delightful. “...But you know what they say about birds of a... _feather...”_ in that moment the door opened, and The Detective’s hand reached in as she grabbed him by the wrist.  
  
“Lucifer, come on!” She snapped as she roughly yanked him out.  
  
“Ahhhh.” The dismayed Devil exclaimed as the door closed behind him with a resounding clang.

_God snickered. That boy had such a delightful talent for puns._  
  
Everyone in the church was silent. For a while, no one moved. A child coughed, a baby babbled, and an old lady sneezed nervously. Then the preacher, clambering to his feet, looked sheepishly at the faithful gathered before him. “Can we... ah... just pretend that didn’t happen?” He fumbled.  
  
_God roared with laughter as he let his sight wander to the parking lot._  
  
Dan let go of Michael’s arm, the one holding Trixie’s weird alien toy, as the archangel looked at everyone innocently, head tilted and eyebrows furrowed. “Did I do something wrong?” He wondered, clearly perplexed.  
  
“YES!!!” Everyone exclaimed. Dan noticed Maze was laughing as she said it, because of course a literal demon from Hell would love this. But Dan just had a headache. Everyone else seemed to, as well.  
  
Everyone except Lucifer, who was _still_ wearing that obnoxious shit-eating grin, even as he straightened his sleeves. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong, Mī.” The dick replied joyously, clearly pleased with himself.  
  
_The Father up in Heaven nodded His agreement. Although... He had to admit, Gabriel was right to be concerned. It wasn’t wise to leave those two on Earth. _

__

__

_ But it was right, and that was more important._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gabe just wanted to be done and to have Mi back. 😪
> 
> God: 🍿😎
> 
> Mi: telling them what for: 😇⚔️😡  
Also Mi: 😇🥺 as he clings to Miss Alien. 
> 
> Lucifer: Smug Devil. 😈
> 
> One chapter left! Last one will be Linda and Raziel POV


	61. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raziel and Sandalphon in Hell. Lucifer and Michael in therapy.

Raziel touched down by the now familiar room, the one originally built to contain Mîchael, and a wave of nausea hit as she was reminded again of what Father said to her. The archangel would choose her punishment… when he was ready. Not knowing was torture. How long would she have to wait to learn her fate? She knew what she _deserved... _and the thought filled her with shame and dread. Her coconspirators were either destroyed or suffering in a Hell Loop. The very same Hell Loop she was about to walk into. The Hell Loop she knew she belonged in. 

Why was she doing this? Why did she keep coming back? 

As she reached toward the door, she caught a glimpse of her hand and she shuddered. Upon being cast from Heaven, she lost a great many things, starting with her gift. She was too corrupted to be allowed to hear the prayers of innocents. Remiel had been right when she accused her of hiding from the truth by blaming Lucifer. She was a monster. And now, in Hell, she looked the part. Her skin turned ashen and her curves had hollowed out. Her teeth became sharp, and her hands were twisted and claw-like. And her wings… those were a disgusting rotted mess, barely capable of flight.

Self-consciously, she adjusted her hood and pulled the face covering firmly into place, then stealing herself, she pushed the door open and stepped in. And as she did so, she reminded herself that she was the Steward of Hell. This room had no power over her. She was not the guilty party…

_But you are guilty, _a voice hissed in her head. And she knew it was true. As she crossed the threshold, frozen air blasted her face and predawn light decorated the snow.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’d make a better demon than angel?” Mazikeen was laughing as she leaned back on a tree, a wicked, gleeful spark in her eyes.

“Be silent.” Gabriel snarled as he lifted the limp form of Sandalphon back onto his feet. The busted angel coughed and blood sprayed the avenging Hornblower’s face. “The only reason I’ve not dispatched of you is because your recent actions have been in the service of Heaven.” His eyes were glowing a vibrant white yellow, and his silvery wings were fanned aggressively behind him.

“Yeah, whatever.” She waved him off indifferently. “I didn’t do it for you, assholes.”

Sandalphon started to laugh, a manic, hysterical, terrified sound as he found unsteady footing and he attempted to hazard a punch at Gabriel with his one good arm. The Hero of God simply crushed his fist, and he went limp again, gritting his teeth and swallowing a pitiful mewl.

“But since you’ve taken my toy away, I guess I’ll go make sure those idiots are okay.” The demon grumbled as she turned and walked off. “Have fun torturing the torture angel, Gabby!” She waved over her shoulder, then she was gone.

For a moment, there was silence. Sandalphon whimpered where he lay, an involuntary sound, and Gabriel knelt down to grab a fistful of his white hair. Raziel drew closer. She didn’t want to… but like always, she was drawn. Her heart started to pick up as her furious brother leaned in close to speak softly into Sandalphon’s ear.

“Oh, Sandi, You’ve made so many mistakes. You thought you knew suffering and madness before?” The vengeful angel’s grip tightened and all Sandalphon could do was wince. Gabriel sneered cold-heartedly at him. “I’m going to let you in on Father’s dirty little secret.” He brought his hand under Sandalphon’s chest and eased him into a sitting position as he leaned him against the tree. “If you hurt someone enough, they will blame themselves. It doesn’t matter if they’re at fault.” He sighed.

Raziel knew this. It was one of the reasons she wanted to change things… and realizing that Gabriel not only knew, but _used _this knowledge… a chill crawled up her spine.

“I’m going to make sure you learn to regret the actions that led you to this moment. I’m going to make sure you go to Hell, and I’m going to make sure that I’m the one you see in your Hell Loop.” Gabriel stepped back and extended his arm as he raised his hand, fingers splayed, then the previously listless Sandalphon started to writhe as an intense burning sensation spread through his veins.

Raziel trembled. Her breath became rapid and desperate as a rabbit looking into the maw of a fox. She wanted to look away, but all she could do was watch as Sandalphon suffered. 

***

Linda sat in her office, smiling at Lucifer as he thanked her and bid her a good day. This was a productive session, and she couldn’t help but feel proud of him. But as his hand reached for the door, a thought crossed her mind.  
  
“Oh, Lucifer? I… have you heard any news from…” She waved her hands around nebulously, in an attempt to indicate all things celestial.  
  
The Lightbringer looked at her blankly for a moment before he caught on. “Ah! Yes, actually. Gabriel came by yesterday.” Linda’s eyes bugged. Why did these things still surprise her? “I punched him.” He announced proudly, turning to leave. 

“And?” She blurted in a half panic, motioning for him to spill the bean when he offered no explanation (let alone any reassurances that he hadn’t started a war, at least).

Lucifer beamed at her. “Oh, it felt lovely. The lying mingebag didn’t see it coming. And because Mī was there, he didn’t even hit back!” His eyes twinkled mirthfully. “Thanks for asking Doctor.” And with that, his hand was on the door.  
  
“What did he want? What did he say?” She demanded.  
  
Lucifer retracted his hand and turned to look at her cluelessly. Slowly, it occurred to him that he may not have actually answered her question adequately. Sighing, he adjusted his suit. “Raziel is running things downstairs… I guess she works for me now… Sandalphon is nice a cozy in the same bloody room they built to hold Mī. Dad put Gabe in charge upstairs... we both agree this is a terrible idea.” 

He paused for a bit, considering. “Oh, and the fallen warriors previously under that bloody wanker’s control set up residence in our pocket realm, and ah... Azrael left on a mission to collect the rest of the angels who perished in the rebellion who are still lost beyond creation.” Linda gaped at him. “From what I hear, they’re doing splendidly. The ones in the pocket realm… no clue how Azrael’s doing. The refugees are trying to establish a government… so we know everything’s going to Hell, now.” He laughed. “Nothing spoils paradise quite like politics.”  
  
Linda nodded slowly. That sounded like mostly good news… she hoped Ella’s friend would be alright. “Thanks for the update.”  
  
Lucifer smiled brightly at her. “Of course.” Then he opened the door and strode out. The door was left open, and Linda mentally prepared herself for her next client. She wasn’t sure if she was ready for this, but…  
  
Michael quietly slipped in and closed the door, shy and uncertain as he looked at her. He had his emotional support cat in his arms. Atlas was a very big, very handsome fluffy black and white Maine Coon. Linda smirked, still amused that Lucifer was now sharing his penthouse with a cat.  
  
He had used three entire sessions to complain about it.  
  
But from what Linda could see, Atlas was a very well-mannered feline… she wondered if that had something to do with the rumor that Michael may or may not be able to talk to animals. Whatever the reason, the cat went everywhere he did… and somehow, without fail, he got away with it.  
  
Michael sat onto the couch and looked around questioningly as the cat settled into his lap. Linda took in his demeanor as the cat purred and he focused on everything and anything but her. She knew he didn’t really want to be there. Convincing him to trust her was going to be her first priority.

“Welcome.” She smiled kindly and his eyes briefly flitted her way. “I’m really glad you’ve agreed to see me.” She offered. The archangel nodded.  
  
“I... um... I’m not good at this.” He voiced softly, looking at a spot on the floor as if it were the most fascinating thing he had ever seen.  
  
“At what?” Linda prompted politely.  
  
“Talking.” He answered unhelpfully. Then glancing briefly at her, he added, “About feelings.”  
  
“That’s alright.” She reassured. “You don’t have to say anything you aren’t ready for, and you should know that everything said in these sessions will stay between us, unless you give me explicit permission otherwise.”  
  
He eyed her silently, brow furrowing in confusion. The cat butted his head against the hand that was scratching his ear. The sound of the ticking clock and the purring cat filled the void. Linda swallowed.  
  
Lucifer was a challenge… but at least sharing wasn’t a problem for him. Michael, it seemed, was not a sharer. Linda squared her shoulders and continued to smile encouragingly. “You want help getting started?”  
  
He opened his mouth like he might say something, only to bite his lower lip and huff in frustration. Then, after another pause, “I… what am I expected to say?”  
  
Linda suppressed a laugh, but he seemed to catch her as an annoyed expression crossed his eyes. “I’m sorry…” She apologized, “but you can say anything you want.” She smoothed her features back into a professional mask and leaned forward.  
  
“Anything?”  
  
“Yes. Not every session has to be about the big things. In fact, it might be best if we start small and just see where the conversation takes us.”  
  
For some reason, he looked like a deer caught in headlights. He really was the antithesis to Lucifer when it came to verbalization. Sighing, she decided to offer a subject. “How are you and Ella doing?” She ventured.  
  
Michael blushed and his eyes widened. “Miss Ella is fine… I…” Atlas jumped off his lap and started to investigate Linda’s office. She almost wanted to protest, worried that he might mess with her office supplies, but the feline seemed content to flop onto her desk and roll belly up and stretch out. Michael was not saying anything again. This was going to be harder than she thought. Linda wondered if he understood his feelings toward the scientist. Judging by the confused silence, probably not. She decided to try another subject. 

“Lucifer tells me you have a daughter...” She took a deep breath. This might be too much, but... well... “Would you feel comfortable discussing this topic?”  
  
He remained quiet as he grew pensive and distant. His breathing faltered for a moment, but still, he said nothing. Linda almost tried another topic, but then he bit his lip. “We found her... Miss Ella made contact with the Belloc family on my behalf... but...” He took a ragged breath, and Atlas perked up, eyes locking onto him. “...I’m not... she’s better off with...” A fist clenched, and his eyes closed. “She deserves the best... I’m not...” He trailed off. Linda waited for more, but there was none.  
  
“So… if it’s okay to ask,” She started tentatively, trying to keep the conversation going. “I know you didn’t want to see me as a therapist… is this related to why you changed your mind?” She tried.  
  
His expression grew anguished. Uh-oh, maybe that was too much. Again, he looked at the spot on the floor. Atlas, sensing his angel’s mood, curled in, leapt from her desk, and returned to his lap.  
  
“I… I need… I have to be better for her... but I... I can’t get it to stop hurting.” He whispered, still not looking at her.  
  
Linda kept the neutral open expression glued to her face. “What’s hurting?” She prompted.  
  
He brought a shaking hand to his heart. “Sometimes it... I can’t ignore it, and... sometimes… I can pretend it isn’t hurting at all… but it…” Now he looked at her with misted eyes glistening with unshed tears. “…it never really goes away, and I don’t know what to do. Sammy said you can help with that.” He looked pleadingly at her, more like a lost child than anything in that moment.  
  
Linda suspected that the significance of what he said was lost on him, and she found herself taking a steadying breath. “Okay. I can help. But it won’t happen right away, and some things, they never go away completely. What I can do is help you learn how to cope with it, to work through it… and move forward with your life.” He nodded. “How long has it been hurting?”  
  
“Since…” Both hands were in Atlas’s fur now, and he was taking deep, calming breaths. Linda had to hand it to him, for someone from a family which seemed to be notoriously bad at feelings, he had found several marvelous grounding techniques all on his own. Breathing exercises, feeling something soft and comforting, listening to music... and he even used cinnamon rolls to ground himself sometimes.   
  
The archangel continued to pet his emotional support cat and breathe before looking at her, biting his lip as he did so. That was a tell, Linda noted. “Since the moment I drew my sword on Samael.” He looked at the spot on the floor again. He took a deep breath. He blinked back a tear. “I didn’t let anyone know… I… pretended it wasn’t there… I didn’t have the luxury of indulging weakness... but ever since…” He trailed off. The tear escaped his blinking eyes and slipped down his cheek. “... ever since I was...” Another tremulous breath. “It’s gotten worse, and I can’t ignore it anymore.” His shoulders were shaking.  
  
Linda got up and moved to the couch to sit next to him as she reached out her hand to place it on his shoulder before pausing, unsure of how he would respond to contact. He nodded by way of permission and she let it rest as she looked at him sympathetically.  
  
“First, I want you to understand that the feelings you have are not a weakness.” She informed firmly, knowing how much staying strong meant to this particular angel. For all of recorded history, he was struggling silently, asking no one for help, even as he filled the roll of The Defender. He saved people, he healed them, he guided them… all the while, isolating himself. The enormity of that burden was more than she could really fathom, but she did understand one thing. It was time for a change. “And it’s okay for you to need and want support.” Michael sniffed and nodded again. Linda withdrew her hand, but stayed by his side. 

“So… what do I do if it hurts too much?” He asked.  
  
Linda considered his question. There were a lot of techniques she could suggest, and what worked best for one person might not be right for another. “For some people, it helps to find a happy place in your mind. Like a favorite location or memory... Do you have anything like that?” She offered.  
  
Michael closed his eyes and concentrated for a minute, then he started speaking. His voice soft and slow at first. “When we were still new… before we had assigned roles, when reality was… unsubstantial… Sam… he had recently figured out how to make tiny balls of light and he was toying with them. They floated over him as he lounged on a wisp of…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “…there’s no word in English for it… so I’ll just call it a cloud.” He snorted wetly at his word choice. “He was making a new sound, it was just a hum, but... to me, it was strange and beautiful. I asked him what he was doing. He didn’t know, but he said it sounded nice.” 

Then Michael started to hum a sweet, haunting melody. When done, he paused to look at her. “It wasn’t called music yet, but that’s what it was. He suggested I try too, so I joined in, finding sounds that felt right with what he was doing.” Then he hummed a different, harmonious melody. “Before long, all of our siblings were joining in.” The archangel smiled softly at her, the distress lines having melted away. “Angels have been singing ever since.”  
  
Linda’s mouth was hanging partially open and she was startled to feel the heat of tears threatening. Blinking, she removed her glasses to dab at her eyes.  
  
“Are you okay, Dr. Linda?” He asked, confused by her reaction.  
  
“Never better, Michael.” She sniffed fondly. “Thank you. That’s a lovely memory.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gabe can be scary.😱  
Sandi deserves it, though.😡  
So does Raz.😡  
Luci is clueless.😈😶  
Mi can finally start to heal.😇⚔️🥺
> 
> **What comes next???**
> 
> Short fics and art... some already posted...
> 
> And a proper full length **sequel** is already being constructed.  
Because there is still a lot to explore, particularly Elaine and Gabriel.
> 
> Thank you everyone for reading! ♥️♥️♥️  
I love you all!😘


	62. Credits and Visuals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Credits with lots of links.  
Three pictures.   
One semi realistic and two chibis.

**Roll Credits:**  
****Special thank you to [Imperium](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imperium) for helping with strengthening the story. You don’t think so, but you’ve been invaluable to me.

[Miah_Arthur](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miah_Arthur/pseuds/Miah_Arthur), [Hircine_Taoist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hircine_Taoist/pseuds/Hircine_Taoist), [Mitchpell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitchpell), [onlymostlydead](https://archiveofourown.org/users/onlymostlydead), [legendarytobes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/legendarytobes), [feartheviolas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/feartheviolas/pseuds/feartheviolas), and everyone else in the writing sprints: your support and encouragement has been pure gold.

Special recognition to [deliriumbubbles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deliriumbubbles/pseuds/deliriumbubbles) who, like me, wrote a comics/series crossover.  
If you enjoy a nice twin relationship, you may enjoy [Fearfully and Imperfectly Made](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19327945/chapters/45976042).

My angst guru, whether aware of this or not, [mariadperiad20](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariadperiad20/pseuds/mariadperiad20)  
If you love whump: check out[ Incentive.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19062355/chapters/45281191)

[ariaadagio](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariaadagio/pseuds/ariaadagio) got me into fanfics with her lovely [Castaway](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15942401/chapters/37175798) fic. Read it if you haven’t yet!

[matchstick_dolly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/matchstick_dolly/pseuds/matchstick_dolly)’s [Refraction of Light](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17631620/chapters/41572682) gave me the courage to try a long fic that ventured away from canon.

And once again, every song I linked in this fic was instrumental in writing my story.  
♥️♥️♥️

_Artwork time!_

The twins. You can find the image [here](https://www.deviantart.com/manic-goose/art/The-Price-of-Freewill-834895237) as well. (Easier to see on a phone.)

And just because I can, here’s a chibi Samael and Michael. 😍 You can also view them [here](https://www.deviantart.com/manic-goose/art/Glowing-Angel-Baby-846567257) and [here](https://www.deviantart.com/manic-goose/art/Golden-Angel-Baby-846566995)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The art used to be a separate post, but now that the fic is finished, I am putting it here.  
And I moved the credits from the notes of last chapter to here so I could include links.


End file.
